


Infested

by comingbacktoyou



Category: GOT7
Genre: Demons, Exorcisms, GOT7_TAROT_19, Hauntings, M/M, Paranormal, Religious Symbols, Spirits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-07-29 19:42:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 54,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20087710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/comingbacktoyou/pseuds/comingbacktoyou
Summary: In the midst of Jinyoung and Jaebum fighting their feelings for each other, a tragic accident leaves their paranormal investigation team crippled. Months later, a sinister haunting tosses them back into the dark clutches of the demon world with an deranged entity that threatens the life of a foster family and might just kill them both before they can get their shit together.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, I hope you all enjoy my fic!!! I worked really hard on it, and it's something I'm really proud of. My card was the Page of Swords. Enter at your own risk~

Salem. 1986.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The air stands still where the small but sturdy double floor victorian era house rests, nestled drearily on an overgrown and dying piece of land that stretches towards the highway that leads into town. It’s white and green paint has faded over the years, yellowing from the brutal downpour of the sun. The decrepit house is fickle, creaky in her steps where the long wooden boards are slowly rotting away, ascending from the porch steps all the way to the mahogany grand staircase that leads to the bedrooms on the second floor.

A few meters before the house sits a tepid lake, greener than the leaves on the trees in the summer, but suitable enough for a swim on a hot day. A dock stretches out over the water, shaded by the only large oak tree within walking distance of the house - it’s darkened and sharp branches cascading out over the water like a dreadful omen to come.

A gust of wind raps against the side of the wall, but other than that, the house remains quiet throughout the night. Until,

_ Tap. Tap. Tap. _

Mark shoots up in bed, heart rate staggering in his chest and eyes squinting as they adjust to the darkness of his bedroom. It’s not unusual for him to be woken up at this time of night, especially during his deeper sleeping patterns, but this time feels different - like a hundred ton elephant is sitting on his chest. 

It’s not anxiety, Mark knows what that’s like. No, this is different. This is like a pair of hands are crawling their way up his chest and wrapping their delicate fingers around his neck, squeezing and squeezing until he has to pound a fist to his sternum and force out a cough in hopes that he can get some relief. 

Mark manages a deep breath, the clarity returning to his brain as the air returns to his lungs. As quickly as it came, the feeling disperses like a fleeting humming bird that was only there for a hair's breadth of a second. 

After another series of breaths that leaves Mark’s nerves calm enough for him to fall back asleep, he puts the thoughts of what’s just happened to him aside, chalking it up to some nightmare or another that’s just manifested itself in real life, as some dreams often do. He looks to his left, to the small beige clock that sits plugged into the wall on his bedside table. The analog numbers flip to 2:15 am; he groans internally.

Mark wipes the tiredness from his eyes and sets himself in his queen-size throw to lay once more on his back, hoping no more disturbances will interrupt his beauty sleep. Only, from somewhere distant in the house, another clatter rings out.

_ Tap. Tap. Tap. _

His eyes widen slightly; his first thought is the wind, what with the age of the house, it’s normal to hear odd noises in the night. It was normal when they were kids living in the foster home with the rowdy bunch of kids the walls used to house, and it’s just as frequent now since he’s moved back in and tried to find some normalcy with his new life.

He’s about to chalk his paranoia up to his nightmare and tumble back under the sheets when a small but shrill voice echoes from the other end of the house.

“No! I don’t want to go in there!”

The sheer tone of the child’s voice alone - frightened and confused - is enough to get Mark’s feet shooting out from under his hand-knit comforter and sliding straight into his pink bunny slippers he received from the kids as a birthday present last year.

As he hastily sprints down the second floor he doesn’t hear anyone else moving around, meaning everyone else must be sleeping through the commotion. Another squeak from the first floor has Mark descending the stairs two steps at a time, and by the time he reaches the hallway between the foyer and the kitchen, Jungkook is backing into his legs ungracefully.

The nine year old lets out a small gasp of panic, but when he turns and sees the adult kneeling before him, his face softens slightly.

“Mark hyungie!”

“Yah,” Mark whispers, shushing the almost-preteen before he wakes the rest of the house up. “What are you doing down here so late, huh? And why are you yelling?”

Jungkook, with his baby faced cheeks and bunny-like teeth, looks around timidly, like he’s scared he’s being watched. “N-nothing, hyungie. I was just, um, playing with my imaginary friend, V.”

Mark’s genuinely glad it’s nothing serious, even if the kid did nearly gave him a heart attack. Still, he sighs, trying to be stern. It’s how the whole parent thing works, even if he’s only fostering. “What did I say about wandering around in the middle of the night?”

“That I should stay in bed until you wake us up. But,” Jungkook chimes in at the last second, after Mark is nearly ready to haul him back up the stairs and tuck him into bed. “He said he needed to show me something important.”

“Who did?”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “V.”

Mark hits the nine year old with a stern head tilt. “Something so important it couldn’t wait until morning?” 

While Mark knew this was some sort of projection Jungkook was likely having due to the other kids sometimes leaving him out of games and playtime, there was something about the mention of the friend named ‘V’ that had Mark slightly curious. 

He turns his head to wear Jungkook had been hovering, to the place Mark assumes he heard the child admit he didn’t want to enter. It’s the only place in the entire house the children aren’t allowed to go.

Concern fills his brow. “Jungkook-ah, you know you’re not allowed in the basement.”

The boy pauses, looking away from the door, like he’ll be punished is he so much as catches a glimpse of it. His eyes fall to the floor and his fingers fly to his mouth as he nibbles on the ends of them, a bad habit he recently developed when he’s nervous or unsure of what to respond with.

Mark helps him out

“Alright kiddo,” he plasters a smile on his face, sighing internally when Jungkook’s demeanor becomes less somber. “Why don’t we get you back into bed, okay?”

Jungkook nods shyly, but is able to take his fingers out of his mouth in order to grab hold of Mark’s longer and slimmer ones as he leads them back up the stairs. He doesn’t miss the way the temperature drops slightly when they pass the door to the basement, and the hairs on the back of his neck seem to stand on end as the cold spot clings to his back all the way to the room Jungkook shares with Chan.

Once they stagger inside however the cold spot dissipates, but the air conditioning units have been on the fritz all throughout the house for days that he would now consider these random cold air pockets normal.

Once the boy is tucked away in his bed, Mark brushes his dark brown bangs out of his eyes. “Hey, aren’t you a little old for an imaginary friend?”

Jungkook giggles quietly so as to not wake his foster brother up in the other bed. “No. Because V said you’re his friend too, so that would make you super old.”

Shifting back, Mark takes the words in, stunned. He had never even heard of this imaginary friend before tonight, and somehow he was already friends with it. But, that’s how the mind of a child worked these days.

He just shrugs. “Fine, no one’s too old for an imaginary friend. Now go to sleep.”

After a chaste kiss to the top of the boy’s brown head, Mark exits the room, lingering in the doorway. For some odd reason, Jungkook’s imaginary friend V sticks in his head like it’s been hammered with a nail. He can’t place the feeling it gives him, but he’s definitely uncertain about what it will mean for Jungkook and his social skills in the future. There’s something else too, something buried deep, something he hasn’t felt since he was a child, like something is begging for him to stay.

The short distance to his room suddenly becomes twice as long, and then at once, Mark swears he feels a hot pair of eyes staring at him. His spins on his heel, expecting to see Jungkook or one of the other kids, hell even a stray cat for that matter. But what he finds is an empty space and silence crawling towards him.

Mark stifles a laugh to himself, breathing whatever he was psyching himself out with. He was probably still on edge from his nightmare and having to rush downstairs to Jungkook. 

Either way, Mark drags himself to his room with an ache in his chest and tries to calm down long enough for his eyes to close and his breathing to even out.

* * *

Yugyeom fits a reluctant Jaein into her overalls, her thin arms dangling with glee as he pretends to get mad with her, when the rest of their rowdy house tumbles down the stairs. He boops the five year old on the nose and leads her to the kitchen, where Mark has gotten an early start on breakfast before school and work.

Before Yugyeom even reaches the staircase, a putrid scent hits his nose so hard he has to take a step back and catch his breath. His face contorts in disgust, failing to keep out the toxic aroma of what seems to be rotting meat, if he could put a name to it.

“God hyung,” he calls, entering the kitchen with his plaid shirt covered arm draped over his face. “What the heck did you do?”

In an instant, Mark stops his work, offended if the sound of the scoff he lets slip out is anything to go by. “Watch your mouth, brat.” He emphasizes by waving his spatula right in the direction of Yugyeom’s nose, earning a few giggles from the kids at the dining room table in the middle of munching on their pancakes. “No, it’s not me. It’s something else, I’ve been smelling it all week.” 

He gestures for Yugyeom to come closure, and lowers his voice. “I think maybe a c-a-t crawled under the housed and d-i-e-d.”

“A cat died under the house!?” Chan exclaims from where he is now standing right behind the pair, plate brandished in his way of asking for more pancakes.

Mark and Yugyeom try their best to quiet him as soon as the words leave his mouth, but Ryujin and Tyuzu’s ears perk up immediately at the word ‘cat’, and fall just as quickly when they realize what Chan has just said.

“What!?”

“NO!!”

“The kitty cat died??” Jaein screams across the room, dropping her fork into her maple syrup, coating the metal in what will soon be a sticky mess that Yugyeom knows Mark will make him clean up.

Mark quickly comes to the rescue, rushing over to the table after shooting Chan a disapproving look. “No, of course not Jaein-ah. There’s no kitty cat. Yugyeomie oppa and I were just thinking that, um,” he pauses having not thought that far ahead to come up with a good coverup.

“We were thinking there might be poop under the house.” Yugyeom finishes for his brother, the white lie a small price to pay in order to protect the fragility of the young girls. He steps closer towards the table, waving his hands frantically over his face while comically scrunching his nose. “That’s why it smells kinda gross sometimes.”

The kids chuckle at Yugyeom’s amusing antics, leaving Mark to sag his shoulders in relief. One small crisis averted with the little ones. He turns to point a finger at Chan before placing his plate in the sink, but the preteen merely shrugs as an apology before rushing off to his room.

It’s moments like these that Mark is grateful that he’s found a partnership in Yugyeom, aside from their brotherhood, to be able to handle five foster children and two jobs the way they can. While they’ve always been close, growing up as foster brothers waiting for the day when they were lucky enough that they could find a permanent home, going to community college while they worked part time and shared a tiny one bedroom apartment, to the five little demons they call a family miraculously finding themselves in their care, the pair work almost as one, one black and one white. Where Mark struggles with talking to the kids sometimes, Yugyeom is there to take the reigns. When Yugyeom sometimes doesn’t know what’s best for the family, Mark jumps in to make the executive decisions as the head of household.

Zoning in back from his tender thoughts, Mark flips the stove off with the flick of his wrist and stacks the last of the flapjacks onto a plate to bring to the table.

“It sometimes smells funny in my room too.” Says Jungkook, mouthful of food and syrup dripping sweetly down his chin.

Yugyeom makes a face into his coffee mug. “Oh yeah?”

“Ours too!” Tyuzu exclaims, getting a nod from Ryujin. “I think it’s Jinnie farting all the time!”

Ryujin immediately sits up straight, her bangs falling into her eyes. “No I’m not! I don’t fart!”

“Easy, easy.” Mark shushes, calming the sensitive six year old with another pancake on her plate. She quiets quickly, shoveling the food into her open pout. 

Across the table where Yugyeom’s elbows rest, he’s obviously startled and confused, mirroring the look Mark is hitting him with. Their eyes are sharp and pointed, carrying a conversation none of the children can hear. They wonder what could be happening in the house that would make such a horrible odor radiate not only downstairs, but upstairs, if the children are smelling it too?

Yugyeom only shrugs, dipping back down to sip his coffee.

After breakfast is over and the kids are all packed and ready for school, Mark pulls Yugyeom aside on the porch. “It can’t be a dead animal if the kids are smelling it in their rooms.”

“Maybe it’s the house,” Yugyeom supplies, looking around at the tattered old walls they’ve been too busy to get around to painting. “It’s over two hundred years old, it might be rotting. Maybe that’s why we were able to get it so cheap.”

Mark doesn’t even want to think about their old home on the brink of crumbling away. He especially doesn’t want to think about what that would mean for them now if that was the case, and the money they’d have to shell out to keep it. They’re tied up enough as it is, and they can’t afford to find a new place. In addition to sentimental reasons, they need this place to be structurally sound.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Mark sighs. “I’ll call someone to come check it out then. Animals, the structure, wood, termites, everything.”

Yugyeom nods, patting his brother on the shoulder. “Okay, we gotta run. Kids!” He shouts into the house as he slides the keys to his beige BMW out of his pocket.

In a flurry of black hair and bright colored backpacks, Chan, Tyuzu, and Ryujin dash off towards the car without looking back. It’s not hard to tell who’s missing, as Jungkook is usually always the last to join them, not wanting to go back to fourth grade.

Mark feels for him; ever since they moved into this new house and the kids had to change schools, Jungkook’s had the hardest time making new friends, and it doesn’t help that when he comes home, his brothers and sisters often exclude him too. Mark knows they’ll eventually grow out of it, but he’s worried it will hinder his growth at his age now.

“I’ll get him,” he assures Yugyeom, who waves in thanks and heads to the car to let the other kids inside so they’re not waiting in the hot sun.

“By the way hyung,” Yugyeom shouts across the grass, “Did you lose your necklace?”

Mark’s hands fly to his neck, disturbed to find a lack of metal chain and only thin skin. It must have fallen off when he was sleeping or sometime this morning. He shrugs as he makes his way back into the house, simultaneously looking for the necklace and Jungkook at the same time. 

“Jungkook-ah!”

He glances around the kitchen quickly for the single diamond stud before climbing the steps two at a time. Normally he wouldn’t be so desperate to find a piece of jewelry, but this piece was given to him by their original foster mother, Miss Boa, who opened the foster house decades before Mark and Yugyeom ever showed up. She gave it to him as a birthday present when he turned eighteen, as she did with every other kid that passed through her doors and never found a permanent family, forced out of the system when they became a legal adult.

Yugyeom has a matching one, despite having left the house at sixteen years old when Mark had come back to adopt him. Miss Boa had taken to Yugyeom so much that two years later she sent him one anyways, and neither of the boys had taken their most prized possessions off. It had represented the only home they’d only known.

“Jungkook-ah, it’s time to… oh.” Mark startles, surprised to find Jungkook standing at the top of the staircase staring back at him. He had been so preoccupied looking for his necklace his hadn’t heard the boy’s footsteps edging closer. “Time to go, hyung is waiting for you in the car.”

Instead of moving, Jungkook ignores the words all together. “What are you looking for hyungie?”

Sighing, Mark ushers the boy forward and carefully nudges him down the stairs, not wanting to be the one to make the kids late for school or Yugyeom late for work. “Just my necklace, Kook-ah. I lost it.”

They make it all the way to the front porch before the nine year old turns on his heel to face his hyung. “Um, actually, I think V might have took it,” he admits.

Mark reels at the mention of Jungkook’s imaginary friend again, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end once more. He bends his knees so they’re eye level. “What do you mean V took it?”

“Well,” the boy gulps, wringing his hands together nervously. “He told me he needed it for something, but I don’t know what!”

Mark’s head falls. He’s not mad, just frustrated. He wonders what Jungkook would need his necklace for in the first place, and then tries to wrap his brain around how in the hell he managed to get it off his neck.

“It’s fine,” he reassures after he lifts his head up, noticing the tears starting to well up in the child’s eyes. The last thing Mark needs is the waterworks to come out right before school starts. He places his hands on the kid’s shoulders and squeezes them softly. “Next time, please ask me if you want to borrow my things.”

“But it wasn’t me!” Jungkook rebukes. “It was V!”

“Yah, Jeon Jungkook!” Mark accidentally lets his irritation slip, already tired of playing these games. “There is no such thing as imaginary friends. Where is my necklace? You know how important it is to me.”

The waterworks are in full effect now, as Jungkook’s innocent eyes quickly fill with a layer of tears that come spilling over his pudgy cheeks. “V is real!” He screams, roughly dislodging himself from Mark’s grip, startling the older. “I don’t know where your stupid necklace is!”

Then in an instant, the young boy is scampering off to the car, leaving Mark to sit in regret as he catches Yugyeom’s eyes through the windshield. Yugyeom’s face screams “What happened?” as Jungkook slams the passenger door closed, but Mark can only convey “I don’t know” back before they have to get going.

The car slides through the gravel driveway that leads from their lot to the highway, leaving Mark alone with his thoughts. He hates this part about running a family - the fights they get into along the way. The kids certainly have enough with each other over their toys, the TV, who gets to seek first in hide and seek, and whatever else kids believe to be a big deal these days. He and Yugyeom have had a number between themselves a few times, just brotherly things about what they feel like is the best way to run the house or raise the kids, but the worst ones are definitely when voices are raised towards the kids themselves. They end up either crying, slamming doors, or hating them for the rest of the day. It leaves Mark and Yugyeom drained and feeling out of their element, like they aren’t prepared for any of this.

But then, as if by magic, one of the kids will pull a rabbit out of their hat and show the boys how great it feels to have a family and how they wouldn’t have it any other way. Because even when they fight, it’s with a purpose. And the good always outlives the bad.

Getting back to a standing position, Mark enters the house and traipses up the stairs. He peeks into Jaein’s room (the only one of the kids lucky enough to get their own room), and finds her quietly having a tea party in the corner underneath the window with her favorite teddy bear and dolly. She hums to herself and makes animated voices for the toys, bringing a smile to Mark’s face.

Her pre-k school is out for the day due to teacher training, so Mark’s taken the day off to watch her and do some much needed housework. They haven’t had much time to unpack everything since they’ve been here, so everything’s been packed down in the basement.

He makes finding his necklace his top priority, then will get a jumpstart on chores in addition to keeping a careful eye on Jaein.

Deciding that Jungkook and Chan’s room will be the best place to look, Mark heads to the next room and peaks in. It’s a typical boy’s room, twin beds on opposite sides, clothes scattered among the floor, toys piled in baskets by their dressers, G.I Joe posters on Chan’s side, and Transformers memorabilia on Jungkook’s side.

First Mark drops to his knees and elbows to check under Jungkook’s bed, lifting his black sheets to get a better view. He sighs in frustration when he finds only a few pairs of dirty socks and a couple legos. Back on his feet, he pulls the covers back and runs his hands over the mattress and down the sides, coming up short. He checks inside the pillow cases, and just to be on the safeside, repeats the process for Chan’s side of the room. 

Mark stands empty handed, pacing along the floor with his arms crossed. He can still hear Jaein in the next room through the thin walls, so he doesn’t worry about giving her a quick check in. Instead he walks towards the dressers standing parallel from the entryway, watching his reflection in the grand mirror sitting atop the wooden pair.

He crouches down, starting from the bottom drawers to make it easier on himself. He rummages through denim pants and shorts, but still finds no necklace. Mark gets the second bottom drawer open at the same time the familiar putrid rotting smell from the week wafts into the room. He gags a little, but waves it away before sliding his hand into the mess of extra small t-shirts.

Only, as soon as the tips of his fingers touch cotton, he feels a tiny hand tug at the hem of his shirt.

“Yes, Jaein-ah?” He asks rhythmically, turning his head. He pauses in confusion when nothing but empty space stares back at him. 

It was odd… He didn’t hear her footsteps coming or going into the room. It couldn’t have been her, she was still in the next room playing with her toys. But he was for sure he felt something….

_ You’re just letting everything get to you _ , Mark thinks, chalking it up to stress and his vivid imagination. He turns back to the dresser, looking through two more drawers before starting in on Chan’s side.

He works his way up to the top drawer, once again coming up empty handed as he tears through the eleven year olds socks. He sighs in defeat, thinking of ways to goad Jungkook into telling him where the necklace is when he gets home from school. Perhaps no TV for a week, or no dessert after dinner….

Another tug at the hem of his shirt has Mark standing in annoyance. “Yah, Jaein-ah. I already asked you…”

He stops, staring wide eyed at the mirror, breath caught in his throat as the air around him drops in temperature. Goosebumps begin to rise on his arm, while his mouth parts softly by the sight of the reflection that looks back at him. 

It’s not Jaein he sees, bouncy and full of life asking him to join her tea party. No, this image that stares back at him looms deep within his soul, dark black eyes casting an ominous glow through the glass. It’s a figure of a boy, someone about Jungkook’s age, in a tattered white shirt and blue jean shorts. Mark only gets a quick glance at his scraggly brown hair, his face, and those void black eyes that send shivers down his spine before he’s spinning on his heel and forcing a breath in.

Across the room, the child is gone.

Mark’s fight or flight response kicks into high gear. He doesn’t know what just happened, who is in his house, or where the child has gone off to so quickly, but he knows he has to figure out something, and fast.

He bolts out of the bedroom, checking both sides of the second floor to get a glimpse of where the child could have run off to. Since Chan and Jungkook’s room is at the end of the hall, Mark paces quickly as he peers into each room along the way to the staircase looking for the boy.

He passes Jaein’s room and finds her still seated at her table, feeding her bear a cookie. He doesn’t disturb her, doesn’t let her know there might be someone else in the house. He just smiles nervously when she looks up and waves at him; she’s only five, so there’s no way for her to tell if something’s wrong.

The small pitter patter of footsteps erupt from behind his back, like a small body is descending the stairs. Mark immediately makes a beeline for the steps, taking two at a time as he follows the sound of nobody there.

He reaches the bottom and is met with silence.

“Hello?”

Mark gulps, eyeing the living room with unease. His feet take him to the kitchen, but once more, there is no child to be seen. No one in the living room, upstairs, the kitchen, front yard, back yard….

But that couldn’t be. He definitely saw someone in the mirror. And not just anyone, but a boy. There was a boy in the house and he had run down the stairs and disappeared, fallen out of sight. And Mark hadn’t imagined it either, nothing was due to his overactive imagination or the stress of this week getting to him.

He’s about to give up entirely and call the police, freaked out enough by the thought of someone’s kid just walking into their home unaccompanied and then disappearing before his eyes, when a high-pitched giggle reverberates from the hallway.

Back on the trail of the child, Mark is determined to find the boy and get him to the proper authorities. He rushes into the hallway in just enough time to see a brown mop of hair flee into the basement.

The door stands wide open, and for a moment, Mark wonders if this is all just one big elaborate prank being pulled on him. But no, it couldn’t be. He saw the child, one that wasn’t his own, traipse into the lower level of his home..

He stands still for a moment before making up his mind, knowing he’ll need to get this kid out of his home and back with his parents soon. He timidly makes his way over to the basement entryway, hovering a moment to pull the chain that dangles above his head. The light comes on a second later, illuminating the smaller set of steps that lead down into the basement.

“Hello?” He calls out, slowly stepping down the wooden planks that creak eerily with his weight. He hadn’t noticed the sound before when they were settling into the house, but now that he’s alone, the noise unsettles him.

A few more steps until he reaches the bottom, and the cold spot that follows him has dropped so low that he can see his breath where he hesitates looking around the cluttered room. Piled along the back walls are some old house artifacts that have been collecting dust since before Mark and Yugyeom even came to the foster home - antique mirrors, paintings covered in cobwebs, a grandfather clock that no longer runs, and many other useless things they’ve put off going through.

Stacked around these things are quite a few of their own boxes that they never got around to unpacking, from clothes too small for the kids to appliances that have stopped working. The single light bulb by the stairs shines a harsh yellow glow against the boxes, and as Mark passes through the cluttered space, he finds nothing but the darkness staring back at him.

All is quiet. So quiet he can hear the blood pumping in his ears with every heartbeat. The basement still, wrapped in the blanket of the yellow glow, no child in his sight. He stands confused, face scrunched as he holds his breath in waiting.

“H-hello?”

Nothing.

He’s never been afraid of the dark. But then it whispers to him.

“ _ Mark _ .”

A jolt of fear strikes through his body so hard he turns his head and nearly manges to give himself whiplash. He’s faced with still an empty space, heart trembling in his chest as his hands begin shaking from the sudden voice breaking through the silence.

Once again there’s nothing to confront and there’s no boy, leaving Mark visually and mentally stunned as he stands alone in the dimly lit room.

But now next to the confusion, an inkling of panic begins gnawing it’s way to the surface. He knows he needs to leave the basement, now.

His fear is irrational, stemming from something he doesn’t understand, but in the end, he decides to make a run for it. However there are other plans in store for him.

In an instant the lightbulb begins flickering, and in the next it shatters across the floor with a loud crack of the glass. Shards fly everywhere, and it’s all Mark can do to hold back as scream as the room is dosed in complete blackness that his eyes take too long to adjust to.

Then something behind him growls.

An audible gasp leaves Mark’s mouth as he races towards the stairs in ultimate terror, tripping over the first step and planting on his hands and knees. With all the adrenaline rushing through his body he doesn’t feel the pain, without hesitation righting himself to climb the rest of the way up the steps. 

He heaves harshly, breaths staggering in his chest and sweat pooling at his temples when he almost reaches the landing. But then without warning the door slams closed on its own, almost knocking Mark down.

His chest almost deflates with air as he starts losing the ability to breathe, panic setting in even deeper than before. It feels like two hands are wrapped around his neck and squeezing, and he’s brought back to the nightmare he woke up with the night before. Only he doesn’t believe it’s a nightmare now as he tries to pry the invisible hands off with one hand while the other reaches for the door knob and jiggles.

It doesn’t open.

Mark tries to cry out, but the pressure on his throat is unrelenting. He shakes the handle so hard he fears he might break it, but he doesn’t care. There’s something down here that wants to hurt him, and he needs to get out of the basement before it does.

He resorts to pounding on the door as hard as he can with both his fists, hoping somehow Jaein will be able to hear it. “Jaein-ah!” He gasps out horsley, rapping his knuckles so hard against the wood he thinks he feels blood.

Sweat clings to his neck, soaking his shirt as he pounds and screams over and over again, the terror in his voice becoming more and more evident as the seconds pass on. 

“ _ Mark _ .” Comes somewhere close behind him. 

He doesn’t turn around, instead screams for Jaein.

“ _ Mark _ .” The voice sounds closer this time, repeating his name over and over again, each time inching closer and closer.

Then,

“Mark oppa?”

Mark bangs on the door and gasps, “Jaein-ah?! Please open the door for oppa, please!”

Like the light of day could not come soon enough the door swings open easily, like nothing had been blocking it in the first place. Mark sprints into the hallway and slams his body into the door to close it, locking it in the process. The invisible hands are gone, finally giving him the ability to breathe normally, so he sags against the door in saccharine relief. Jaein just stands before him confused, and Mark has no time to explain things to her because he doesn’t even know what just happened.

When he’s done panting, he slides down the door and opens his arms for the child, to which she walks into his hug with glee. “Go put your shoes on,” he sighs into her hair. “We’re going out for a little while.”

* * *

Things calm down in the house for a few days after that. Jaein forgets Mark was trapped by some mysterious force in the basement as soon as he’d taken her out for ice cream that day, and the other kids never heard a word of the story. Yugyeom on the other hand had of course been informed, and even startled by the information, but was hesitant to call it anything other than electrical malfunctions and old house issues.

As for the kid, Yugyeom figured it must have been someone who wandered onto the property by accident, and when Mark didn’t find him, managed to find his way back home okay. Though Mark had other ideas about what had happened, Yugyeom wasn’t a firm believer in the supernatural. He knew there were logical explanations that would back up the things that were experienced. 

The only thing that bothered him was that Mark’s necklace had vanished out of thin air, and within a few days, so had his. Jungkook swore up and down that it wasn’t him, it was V, his imaginary friend, and they had searched high and low for both of them. But they had found nothing, and Jungkook didn’t like talking about it.

He told Mark not to worry, the necklaces would turn up eventually and everything was fine. He was fine, the kids were fine. The house wasn’t haunted. There were no such things as ghosts.

On Friday night after dinner everyone piles into the living room, Yugyeom at one end of the plaid couch with Chan, Tzuyu, and Ryujin all scooted next to each other, Jungkook on the floor between his legs, and Mark in the black recliner with Jaein on his lap.

It’s their regular friday night routine, dinner and then everyone sits in the living room to enjoy whatever they find on the TV for a few hours while they let the food settle. Right now it’s a toss up between Punky Brewster reruns and Webster. Jungkook doesn’t seem to care what he watches, busy knocking his transformer toys into one another, Jaein is too young to understand anything but wholeheartedly enjoys watching other little girls on tv, Tzuyu and Ryujin are the same, and Chan is a firm believer that girls have cooties.

So, Yugyeom decides what they’ll watch to end the back and forth bickering.

“Majority rules, and the girls want Punky Brewster.” He smiles, clicking the rectangular grey remote in his palm to channel twelve. Within an instant little Punky lights up the screen at the same time the girls cheer and applaud. 

Chan sulks into the couch with his arms crossed. “Kookie, why can’t you be normal and pick something with me for once?”

“Yah,” Yugyeom gives the boy a light tap to his head. “Our Jungkookie is normal. Apologize to him.”

Chan buries himself deeper into the couch. “Sorry,” he mumbles.

“It’s okay,” Jungkook replies, collecting his robots in one hand and standing up. “I think I want to go to my room tonight, I’m tired.”

“Are you sure?” Mark asks over Jaein’s head.

Jungkook nods, so Mark gives him the okay, leaving the six to watch old Punky without him. Both Yugyeom and Mark shoot Chan a disapproving look, to which he just mumbles another apology to himself and settles into the couch.

Yugyeom follows Jungkook with his eyes as he heads up the stairs, worrying for the boy. Things have been stunted with him - his parents were killed when he was six years old by a drunk driver and he had no one else before he fell into their care miraculously. Luckily they knew someone who knew someone who knew his parents, and they reached out to Yugyeom and Mark and begged them to take him in.

They couldn’t turn away a child in need, especially since Jungkook’s story was so similar to his own, as his own parents were both killed when he was very young, so they took him in the most recently. The others have been with them for awhile - Chan since he was five, Tzuyu since she was four, Ryujin since she was two, and little Jaein came into their care when she was only five months old, after she was found abandoned in a dumpster behind a Dennys.

Since Jungkook hasn’t grown up with the other kids as long as they have, Yugyeom’s afraid he’ll always be like this, scared to fit in, keeping to himself, a loner who only talks to imaginary friends. He’s already gotten into potential theft with their jewelry, so there’s no telling how growing up like this will affect him in the future.

It’s things like these that make him self-conscious about raising his own foster family. If one of the kids turns out with hardships due to their youth in the future, then that’s on him. It’s so much responsibility for him to bear, but at the same time, he knows what his life would have been like is Miss Boa had never taken him in. He would have been lost to the system, ended up on the streets as a teenager never knowing love. He never would have met Mark, and he never would be where he is now.

The somber thoughts vanish for now, and Yugyeom relaxes as he lets himself fall into the next adventure Punky has found herself in this week’s episode. 

The minutes crawl on, and as the kids find themselves immersed in the story, Yugyeom finds himself dozing off, the weight of the week catching up with him. His eyes blink blearily, head in his hand where his elbow is propped against the armrest for support. He’s almost asleep, the sounds of the Tv just beginning to blur out when a deafening explosion erupts throughout the house.

Yugyeom’s eyes fly wide open in time to see Mark and the kids on their feet, the littlest ones with their ears plugged and the oldests gazing around in wonder. 

He scours the room, doesn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. “What the hell was that?”

Mark doesn’t know either by the look on his face, but the way he holds Jaein so strongly to his chest makes Yugyeom have to wonder if this is like the thing that scared him before.

Jungkook comes running into the living room in the next instant, hiding behind Yugyeom’s back. “Yugyeom hyungie, what was that loud bang?”

Yugyeom reaches around to awkwardly ruffle the boys hair. “I don’t know Kookie, maybe some fireworks,” he lies. He looks down at Mark hoping his older brother would have an answer. But by the panicked look in his eyes, Yugyeom knew he didn’t. He decides to check outside.

“Where are you going?!” Mark questions frantically, gathering the rest of the children by his side like he’s their human shield.

“I’m checking around to see if it’s our neighbors or something.”

It’s eight o’clock, the full moon hangs high surrounded by clusters of stars only visible away from the urban city lights. He hears nothing, sees no one, and recalls that their closest neighbors are two miles away.

No matter how much he wants to spin it, he knows for a fact the eruption came from inside the house. And while Yugyeom may have been half asleep, it almost sounded like a… cannon blast.

He doesn’t know how that’s possible or why, he just rushes back into the house looking for any signs of an explosion. There’s nothing - no broken glass, splintered wood, holes in the wall, things fallen from their shelves - which doesn’t make any sense.

“Yugyeom-ah, let’s just go, okay?” Mark stammers with the kids still in tow. “I told you something’s not right here, please can we just go?”

Looking down at his brother and the kids, Yugyeom sees the fear and uncertainty on their faces. Even though he doesn’t think anything bad is happening, he knows he can’t force them to stay here like this, what kind of person would he be if he did?

He nods. “Okay, we’ll check into somewhere for the night.”

Mark is relieved. “Okay guys, who wants to go spend the night at a-”

A second round of cannonfire rings through the home, this time shaking the foundation so hard the picture frames tumble from the walls and smash against the floor in a million shards. Everywhere the kids are screaming, Jaein is sobbing into Mark’s shirt where he covers her head with his hands from the thundering assault on their ears.

Yugyeom’s first instinct is to crouch down and wrap the other four children in his large embrace to shield them from any debris, shushing them comfortingly until the barrade is finished.

When the fire has ceased and the house has steadied, everyone stands stunned, breaths caught in their lungs. Looking around, there’s still no sign of an explosion, but the house still shook like it was under attack; their pictures and other knick knacks line the hallway where they’ve fallen from their hooks and shelves.

Yugyeom grabs hold of Jungkook and Tzuyu, ready to drag them out to the car without even getting them an extra pair of clothes for the next day. He doesn’t want them spending anymore time in this house until they can figure out what’s going on.

“Let’s go.” Mark grabs hold of Jaein and Ryujin with Chan following idly behind.

They get to the front door, but when Mark moves to open it, another hand comes through. He screams loudly and jumps backwards into Chan, frozen in fear as they all are forced to watch on as a figure, tall, dark, and covered in rags and bandages, materializes through the door before their very eyes.

The figure says nothing to them - doesn’t even look their way - it just strides right past them to the staircase where it leviates to the top and disappears within one of the bedrooms.

“Get the kids to the car,” Yugyeom instructs, brandishing his keys to Mark while his eyes never leave the second floor. The eldest takes them, Yugyeom inching up the steps slowly.

“Yugyeom, you can’t be serious?!” Mark screams. “Get your ass into the car right now or so help me god!”

And Yugyeom being Yugyeom doesn’t listen to his brother at the worst of times. He waves him off with the back of his hand, slowly creeping up the stairs with both a fever and terror coursing through his veins. If he saw what he just thinks he saw, he needed proof, and he wasn’t going to get it running away.

Eventually Mark gives in with a frustrated grunt and maneuvers all the kids outside. Yugyeom eyes the door to Tzuyu and Ryujin’s room, and prepares himself for what he’s about to find on the other end.

One of the boys’ baseball bats lays by the railing, so without thinking Yugyeom picks it up and angles it next to his head just like the Red Sox players he used to admire growing up. Without prolonging it any further he pushes the door open and aims the bat at whatever that thing was that came up here, only to be met with an empty bedroom.

A noise of confusion leaves the back of his throat as he sets the bat down, checking everywhere in the room a person could hide. Nothing under the bed, the closet, and the window hasn’t been able to open since they were children.

Yugyeom resigns, dragging himself and the bat down the stairs and outside to the car with him. He plops down in the seat and shuts the door.

He turns to Mark. “We need to call the police.”

“And tell them what?” Mark levels him with a dazed eye. “That our house is haunted?”

* * *

The midday church bell tolls from the tower nestled across from the steeple, echoing throughout the halls of the long-standing building. Rich colors of red, blue, and yellow stream through the stained glass of the windows, the original handcrafted artwork of the virgin Mary and archangels in the sky from the eighteenth century highlighting the shadowy pews that line the chapel.

Rows of pews line the floors, separated by white columns casted in the glow of the candelabras mounted around them. At the front of the chapel stands the grandest organ that stretches into the ceiling with it’s brass horns, it’s music sweeping through the entire town each day of mass when their devoted subjects are called upon to give thanks to their lord and savior.

Standing tall on the opposite end of the chapel is the catholic confessional, used by sinners young and old to wash themselves from the dirt they may have gathered in the wake of Christ’s absence.

Jinyoung hasn’t set foot in this church in a while, but he’s always considered it a second home to him, the place where his father had brought him to the trust of God before his absence. While he hasn’t been here in a couple of months, everything remains familiar to him, even the Italian carpet he drags his feet along in his pursuit of the confessional.

Ever since he was a young boy, his father made him come to church and confess his sins. His dad wasn’t a die-hard bible thumper, but he had deep roots within his faith, and in return so did Jinyoung.

He enters the single-sized confessional and drops to his knees, eyes adjusting to the change in lighting. He faces the black screen that separates him from the clergy member on the other side, trying to remember the last time he’s given a confession.

“Forgive me Father, for I have sinned.” He begins calmly, hands folded together and head bowed. “It has been,” Jinyoung hesitates, “A  _ while  _ since my last confession.”

“Two and a half months.” The honey sweet voice says as-a-matter-of-factly.

Jinyoung bites back a smile; of course he wouldn’t forget. “I didn’t know you’d been keeping track.”

The broad figure behind the screen clears his throat, avoiding the statement. “What have you come to confess today?”

Jinyoung pauses a moment, filling his lungs in hopes of prolonging the inevitable. “I went against our agreement,” he admits, thinking back to the rushed conversation he’d had on the phone just last night. “I agreed to take on a case.”

Luckily for him, the voice on the opposite side of the confessional keeps his voice steady despite the red hot disappointment that seeps through the cracks like molten lava.

“You did what?”

Jinyoung recalls picking up the phone last night at eleven, right as he was ready to get in bed. He visualizes the gruesome and horrifying details relayed to him about a foster family down in Salem that had been experiencing all the tell tale signs of a haunting, from unexplained noises to doors slamming on their own and even apparitions.

“There’s a family that needs our help. They have kids, the youngest one is a  _ five year old girl _ ,” he stresses with importance, knowing that above anything, cases with kids are made priority number one - and this family has five. “Their older brothers are terrified that something in the house is out to get them.”

The other side of the booth is silent for a brief moment, Jinyoung holding his breath.

“It’s too soon,” the priest sighs indignantly. Jinyoung can’t see him, but he knows the older man is shaking his head. “We can find someone else to help them.”

Grunting, Jinyoung finds himself slightly annoyed at the words being presented before him. The accident was over three months ago. He’s done his healing, with friends and family, the church, and love and support from the town all surrounding him as he battled the hardest obstacle he’d ever had to face. He’d promised to stay out of the paranormal intervention field until he could get back on his feet, and that’s what he’s done. But now it’s time to lace up his shoes and pull out his bible.

“I’m fine,” Jinyoung continues, hoping he’ll make the Father understand where he’s coming from. “The Lord has put this family in my path for a reason. They called the Salem police who then reached out to Jackson. It was meant to come together.”

“Jinyoung-ah, we agreed,” the man exhales, and Jinyoung can see through the mesh where he removes his glasses and rubs his palms into his eyes. “After what happened last time…”

“I’m not asking you to come, hyung,” Jinyoung interrupts softly, dropping the guise of this being a true confession. Maybe he’ll get through to him better this way. “The team and I can do it. I don’t want to put you in any more danger.”

The accident had taken far too much of a toll on the group. They all had suffered in some way, some more than others, and as for the man Jinyoung wishes he could rip the screen from in front of, he may of just suffered the most.

“What if they need to perform a cleansing? Or worst case scenario an exorcism?” He asks.

“I’m ordained, I can try-”

“No, absolutely not.” The priest cuts off, silencing the thought altogether. And Jinyoung knows why. Exorcisms aren’t just some walk in the park ritual where you curse the spirit out and they leave. It is a long, drawn out battle for the victims soul, which often takes a piece of the person who performs the ritual with it. It’s dangerous even for experienced clergy members to practice, so it could mean life or death for someone like Jinyoung who’s never done it before. “I’m not risking your life like that. We’ll take Youngjae.”

Youngjae, recently ordained into deaconhood, a friend, is someone Jinyoung trusts with his life. They’ve known each other as long as Jinyoung has lived in this town, and he’s damn fine under pressure. But Youngjae, to the best of his knowledge, has never gone through with damning the sacrilegious before either. 

“Has he been selected for priesthood yet?”

“Not yet. He’s been stationed here with me for a few months now, and I believe the Bishop will approve of him soon. I’ll take him under my wing and show him what to do.”

Again, Jinyoung sighs. He doesn’t want what happened last time happening again on his watch. Especially not to the man behind the mesh. He doesn’t know what he’d do with himself if something were to go wrong again and he were to lose him.

“I can’t ask you to come, I can’t risk your safety again.”

“We’ve never been separated on a case before, and I’m not letting you do this alone,” he says. “I give you my word, Jinyoung-ah, that I won’t perform anything while I’m there. Youngjae hasn’t been ordained yet, and this is the last thing he needs to be exposed to if he’s going to take over my position at the church.”

As soon as the words leave his mouth, the confessional booth drops into complete silence. Jinyoung can almost taste the tension in the air, so thick it’s fumes climb down his throat and begin constricting his airways. He repeats the words in his mind, hoping he heard them wrong. By the continued silence on the other end, he knows he didn’t.

“Did you just say take over?”

“I-I didn’t know how to tell you.” The honey sweet voice, once confident and tall, now timid and pinched with nerves, stutters out. “They’re considering me to be a high priest for the Vatican.”

If the backs of his eyes weren’t stinging so much in frustration and the pit of his stomach didn’t just drop, Jinyoung would be praising his friend for the achievement that only few can attain. But he’s not happy, far from it. It’s the bombshell he’s never wanted to hear, after everything they’ve worked for. Of course it has been a possibility - he had wanted this his whole life - but Jinyoung had hoped that it was one of those things one could wish for and just fall short. It was selfish, he knew, but he couldn’t help it. Jinyoung didn’t want to be alone again.

“Wow. Um,” he clears his throat, biting his lip to fight back the tears that want to fall. He feels stupid for letting something like this get to him - it’s not even confirmed yet - but that’s what happens when you let your heart crave the most impossible. “Congratulations. That’s what you’ve always dreamed of.”

Not wanting to linger any longer, Jinyoung stands and exits the confessional with a lump in his throat that he hopes wasn’t noticeable. His feet take him halfway down the pews, but stop on their own accord when the voice that both warms his soul and breaks him down rings out.

“Jinyoung-ah, wait!”

Jinyoung knows he shouldn’t, but his body turns anyway. He finds Jaebum a few rows back, black long-sleeve buttoned up to the collar with the white tab placed perfectly in the middle of his neck. Despite his uniform covering his body, the markings of his tragically beautiful scar are visible where it runs up his neck to the base of his chin. His eyes are wide as they search Jinyoung’s own frantically, and even under stress, he’s still the most beautiful creature Jinyoung’s ever laid eyes on.

“I’ll get Jackson to send you the information on the case, okay?” Jinyoung tries to smile, but it ends up being a lopsided grin that Jaebum catches instantly. Jinyoung turns around before he lets anymore of his sadness bleed through. “Round Youngjae up, we’re leaving on Friday.”


	2. Infestation

Jinyoung has always been different. From the moment he was born, he was destined to do great things. While he excelled in school in all subjects and charmed friends, teachers, and adults alike, Jinyoung was also born with a gift.

Jinyoung could see into the lives of the dead.

It wasn’t something he noticed much as a child, as he assumed the people that followed him around were either friends of his parents or people who found him charming. But as got older, he realized it was something different altogether when his next door neighbor died and appeared in his bedroom the next day.

Freaked out and nearly wetting himself, it was at nine years old that Jinyoung realized he had a gift. A gift that allowed him to see people that were no longer there, glimpse their history through touching their possessions, and sense evil with his presence.

Then when Jinyoung was just fourteen years old, his mother had been killed mysteriously at their home in Lowell, Massachusetts, by something no one could put a face to, not even Jinyoung. By the information that the other paranormal investigators had passed onto them, she had been attacked and murdered by a demon that had supposedly been present around her since she was a child. 

It was stunning and almost disbelieving, but the investigators belonged to the church like Jinyoung and his father did, so their words were nothing to go against. Besides, Jinyoung had watched it happen with his own eyes. He clung to his fear in her bedroom while his father was out at the store, paralyzed from the waist down and forced to watch as the evil darkness walked through the halls of his childhood home and dragged his mother across the room.

It was something he’s never been able to live down, knowing he was there when it happened, standing right there as she reached out to him with her last dying breath. Jinyoung was fortunate while his mother was not, as the demon had only seemed to want her, and after she was dead, it had disappeared into the night and was never heard from again.

After his mother’s passing, they moved from Jinyoung’s childhood home and found refuge in Boston, where his father became obsessed with the supernatural, the occult, devil worshipers, and everything of the sort. He bought books upon books to read and met with churches and the state’s best demonologists to train himself to take on the foreign adversaries.

He made Jinyoung study the paranormal like it was another subject in school, and from then on out made it their mission to help people in need whenever they believed their homes to be haunted. He never wanted them to experience what his family did.

While Jinyoung was barely a teenager at the time and forced into rescuing families from demonic activity, he doesn’t regret it, and doesn’t resent his father for bringing him along. It was an obsession of his dad’s, and in a way, Jinyoung knew that what his father was trying to accomplish wasn’t just for the families in trouble. He understood that deep down, this was his father’s own way of trying to save his mom when neither of them ever could.

So Jinyoung spent most of his teenage years tracking down the histories of haunted homes or debunking myths about what people perceived about the supernatural instead of going to school dances or hanging out with friends.

That was until he was eighteen years old, and he had been introduced to Im Jaebum at church.

Jinyoung’s father had gotten a better paying job with his electric company, so they sold their house and moved into a better neighborhood. The house wasn’t much of an upgrade, but the schools, streets, and most important to his father, the church was. 

His father, giddy and anew now that they were somewhere bigger to become one with the Lord, had set up an immediate meeting with the standing priest, Father Im. The priest invited them over to his house for dinner with his family, where Jinyoung and his dad met him, his wife, and his teenage son Jaebum, who was only nine months older than Jinyoung.

While the men sat around discussing the Lord and his overall plan for them being there, Father Im encouraged the boys to go hang out by themselves and get to know each other. Jaebum had led Jinyoung to his room; they were shy at first, unsure of what to talk about, but could feel the bond between them forming almost instantly. 

Jaebum was told all about what happened to Jinyoung’s mom and how they helped people who feel like they’re in trouble, and Jinyoung learned that Jaebum was going to take over in his father’s footsteps once he was old enough. He was going to be starting community college in the fall and then move on to seminal school where he would learn about all things in the Catholic religion, and how to execute them. Once he was done there, he would be ordained as a deacon at the church while the leading priest and bishop took him under their wings. Then only time would tell how long after that the bishop would select him as a priest.

Jinyoung thought this was a lot to look forward to at the time, but admired that Jaebum had a dream that he was going to follow. Jinyoung admired a lot about Jaebum, and this was only just the beginning.

Thirteen years have gone by since then, their families having joined forces to take on the demons of this world and save the innocent. Jinyoung’s dad led the team with Father Im right by his side for blessings, cleansings, and if it came down to it, exorcisms. 

Jinyoung and Jaebum became their seconds in command, Jinyoung taking part of the researching aspect with his dad and using his ability when needed while Jaebum absorbed every little detail his father could teach him about the effect of the holy spirit on conduits of evil. 

It was like that for a while, just the four of them eradicating demons in their little family unit that they had created. But it wouldn’t stay that small for long. A few years later they adopted a prospective camera whiz, a Thai exchange student named BamBam to document all their findings, and a Hong Kong native on the police force named Jackson Wang to be their muscleman in hairy situations. Jackson also helped bring several cases to them, as many individuals made reports to the police over the hauntings in their homes when they had nowhere else to turn to.

Eventually, Jaebum had passed seminary school, became a deacon, and after only a few months, had been ordained by the church bishop as a priest when he was just twenty five. Father Im had retired to give Jaebum a chance to run the church, and thus began Jaebum’s journey in the clergy and performing rituals by himself.

They take their toll mentally and physically, but it’s nothing he wouldn’t do over and over again if it meant saving people.

It wasn’t quick by any means over the years, that Jinyoung and Jaebum had transformed from acquaintances to best friends to something no one else can understand but them. They’ve been through the darkest and most terrifying of evils the rest of the world couldn’t even fathom, laughed together when they’d drink wine on the weekends and stumble home dazed out of their minds, held each other when a case broke them down, and smiled when it was just the two of them for absolutely no reason at all.

The midday sun breaks through the clouded overcast in Salem as the four door grand am glides across the dewy grass. Jinyoung and Jaebum silently sit next to each other as Jinyoung drives up the gravel road that leads to the case they are set to investigate.

The trip over was somber, with the pair having very little to talk about that didn’t involve the family and the home. Jinyoung caught Jaebum up to speed on the children and the experiences they’ve been having, but ignored the giant elephant in the room that was the prospect of Jaebum being selected to work for the Vatican.

Jaebum doesn’t dare bring it up again, knowing how touchy the subject was for Jinyoung, who had brushed Jaebum off at the sound of it. He had congratulated him on the possible advancement, but it was hollow, something to say because he couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

They both know why, they just don’t talk about it. Jaebum can’t think about those kinds of things in his line of work, and Jinyoung tries to pretend like the Catholic church doesn’t hold a sacred rule book over their heads.

They pull up to the house and immediately Jinyoung feels uneasy. He can’t explain it at first glance, but the sensation of something prickling down the back of his spine stops him, and the way the paint curls up the sides of the house and the way the single oak tree looms over the yard like an ominous picture of fear has Jinyoung wanting to drive away. He keeps this to himself for now, glancing over at Jaebum as he parks the car and shuts the engine off. 

Jaebum levels him with a serious look. “Are you sure you can do this?”

Jinyoung appreciates the concern, but he’s fine. It’s been over three months since the accident, he’s moved on and Jaebum should too. He mirrors his friend’s gaze, finding it almost impossible not to get sucked into Jaebum’s gentle and serene eyes; they’d always had a calming effect on him. 

“I’ll be fine,” the younger nods. Reluctantly, Jaebum takes this as an okay despite his concerns.

The pair exit the vehicle, giving them a chance to take in the rest of the house as they ascend the front porch steps. It’s grand, and certainly beautiful, and no telling how much history there will be once Jackson, BamBam, and Youngjae meet them later with all the information they’ve gathered on the property.

Jinyoung can already feel the darkness that surrounds the home - part of his gift - without even stepping into it. He can already sense the souls that have passed here - the ones who have made their peace and moved on and the ones that are unable to find their way home.

Jinyoung knocks on the wooden door.

To their surprise, a young girl answers it. She’s shy but youthful as she hides half her face behind the door; Jinyoung guesses she’s around five years old.

“Hello there,” Jinyoung says brightly in a tone only reserved for small children, crouching to her level. Jaebum just watches from above, grinning at the interaction. “My name is Jinyoung, and this is my friend, Father Im. We’re here to help with your house. What’s your name?”

Though the sweet introduction seems to have placated the child as she moves a little bit more into the doorway, she still doesn’t know who they are, and was likely told by their foster brothers never to talk to strangers.

Jinyoung turns his head to glance up at Jaebum who looks like he’s about to say something, but suddenly the door is pulled open wider and a man about their age pulls the girl back with a hand on her shoulder.

“Hey Jaein-ah, I told you to let me open the door,” he sighs, glancing between Jinyoung and Jaebum. He extends his hand out towards them, “Hi, you must be Park Jinyoung.”

“A pleasure.” Jinyoung shakes his hand eagerly.

The man turns to the left, “And it’s not hard to figure out that you’re Father Im.” His eyes stray down, catching on Jaebum’s scar, and he does the curteous thing and pretends nit to notice.

The trio chuckle amongst themselves - it’s hard not to distinguish him from others with his clergy uniform on.

“Pleased to meet you, um-”

“Mark.” He finishes. “Mark Tuan. And you’ve already met Jaein.” Mark peeks down at the little girl currently stepping on his shoes. “Listen, I can’t thank you enough for taking the time to come down here. We didn’t know where else to turn. If not for your friend Jackson at the police station, I don’t know what we would have done.”

If the feelings of darkness and disparity alone hadn’t have told Jinyoung something devious was going on here trying to scare the family, the anxious look sewn onto Mark’s face would have. Jinyoung can tell by just the dilation of his pupils alone that whatever is here is  _ terrifying _ him and the kids, and they’re the only ones who can stop it.

“Don’t worry,” Jaebum says, true concern staining his words. “We’re going to do everything in our power to help you guys.”

Mark nods in thanks. “Well then, shall I give you guys the tour and introduce you to everyone else?”

“That would be wonderful.”

“So Jackson mentioned this used to be your old foster home?” Jaebum inquires as the trio trickles into the entryway.

“Ah yes,” Mark says. “Yugyeomie and I were placed here when we were kids and became like family. When I aged out I adopted him, and when we saw the home was on the market we just thought it was the perfect place for these guys.”

As Mark ends his sentence, he gestures grandly towards the wide open living room they step into, the wood moldings aged from the nineteenth century contrasting against the retro green couches and a television set in the corner. Before them stands the family, counting Mark and Jaein, made up of seven distinctly beautiful people dressed accordingly to the warm weather outside.

“Kids, this is Park Jinyoung and Father Im.” Mark begins as the pair step forward to greet everyone. “This is Ryujin, Tyuzu, Chan, and Jungkook.” 

Jinyoung can already feel their amazed looks shift from him to Jaebum and his trademark that sticks out like a sore thumb.

“Hello everyone.”

On the opposite side of Jungkook, the tallest of them all eyes the pair with apprehension. “And this is my younger brother, Yugyeom.”

“Nice to meet you.” Jaebum extends his hand, to which Yugyeom takes generously.

“Same here. Can you really fix what’s going on here?” He asks boldly, and Jaebum notices that despite his tiny apprehension, his hand still shakes slightly. “Because I was skeptical at first until…” 

Jinyoung and Jaebum hang onto the edge of his words. There’s always something that turns a skeptic on their heels, whether it’s disembodied voices, phantom smells, apparitions, or things moving on their own.

Yugyeom continues, gulping harshly, “Until the other night when we heard cannon fire and saw a man walk up the stairs and disappear.”

“Well that’s why we’re here,” Jinyoung reassures the youngest brother, taking in the info and storing it for later. “There’s nothing wrong with being a skeptic. Most things people believe to be paranormal can be easily explained - a leaky faucet, faulty wires, an old house - that’s why we’re here, we can tell you what’s paranormal and what’s not.”

This is the part of their job that most people don’t understand, or don’t want to. Some people want to label them kooks and liars, pretending that these things exist so they can have an ounce of fame. When really it’s the exact opposite. Half of the time, there’s nothing paranormal going on in the cases they’ve been sent to investigate. Their team seeks to debunk claims just as much as they seek to banish evil, because providing logical explanations for certain occurrences helps give families a peace of mind knowing nothing is actually haunting them.

“From what Jackson told us over the phone, first impression sounds like you guys have something going on.” Jaebum states softly, not wanting to cause a panic. “But we’ll need you to take us through the house and detail everything that’s happened, no matter how small.”

“I guess the activity has been widespread throughout the entire house,” Mark starts, glancing around the vintage living room. “I guess it picked up when we started moving in. Most of the house stays a constant temperature, but sometimes there will be these icy cold spots that seem to follow you. And various parts of the house smell like dead animals, but we’ve checked everywhere and can’t find any source of it.”

“Hm.” Comes from Jaebum, who gets lost in himself as he paces the room, eyeing every inch of wall he can find.

“W-what?” Mark stutters.

“Well, spirits trying to manifest will harness a lot of energy. So much so that they will suck all the heat from the air, that’s why you could be feeling those cold spots,” Jinyoung completes for his partner, who has moved onto investigating the kitchen “And I don’t want to freak you out, but rotting smells usually indicate some sort of demonic activity.”

Yugyeom gasps, “A demon?”

“We don’t know for sure.”

“We need to hear about the rest to know exactly what we’re dealing with.” Jaebum lays a calming hand to Yugyeom’s elbow as he rejoins the group.

While the rotting smell being referred to  _ usually  _ indicates some sort of demonic activity, there have been times when they’ve been wrong, and it hasn’t. Like this one time when they were in Louisiana investigating an old plantation with claims of a slave haunting, they had perceived it to have been demonic because of the smell, but it had turned out to be a few dead racoons that had somehow crawled inside the walls and died. It’s cases like those that need proper investigating to figure out if a haunting is real or not.

“Okay. Um, upstairs are everyone's bedrooms.” Mark continues, his voice a little more shaky than before as he leads the group to the second floor. “It’s like, every night at around 2:15 I get woken up by something knocking on the walls.”

“Does it come in threes?” Jaebum asks.

“Yeah,” Mark steps back as they all reach the landing, dumbfounded. “How did you know?”

“When it comes in threes, it’s typically a dig at the father, the son, and the holy ghost.” Jinyoung again finishes for him with practice.

“It’s taunting God,” Jaebum divulges. “Which means whatever’s here won’t take too kindly to people like us.” 

As if on cue, Jinyoung and Jaebum each pull out the matching silver cross necklaces they were given by their parents when they were younger. Never taken off for more than a quick shower, the pair have always kept them on for protection and as a symbol of their devout friendship.

“What else?”

“Well one night after these knocks woke me up, it felt like something, or someone, was choking me in bed.” Mark steers them down the hall and past the children’s rooms to where his own is standing wide open.

Jinyoung gazes inside - it’s a normal thirty something year old’s room. “How so?”

“It’s hard to explain. Like invisible hands were wrapped around my neck and squeezing.” He imitates, his own hands inches away from his neck and pretending to squeeze. “But they were gone a moment later when I heard Jungkook yelling downstairs.”

The foursome turn their heads towards the first floor in unison.

“Why was he yelling?” Jaebum wonders.

“He has this imaginary friend, named V,” Mark explains, the three listening on diligently. “At first I thought it was because he didn’t have any friends at school and his brothers and sisters didn’t like playing with him. But I think this friend is real.”

Jinyoung takes this in, thinking. It’s possible, in fact it’s not the first time something like this has happened. It’s quite the unexplored phenomena of children being able to see ghosts, and even more sensational making friends with them. Something about the innocence of a child they say.

“That night I heard Jungkook yelling so I went downstairs, and he told me V was trying to make him go down in the basement even though Jungkook’s not allowed to go down there by himself.”

Yugyeom looks over at his brother in confusion. “You never told me that.”

“I didn’t think anything of it.” Mark shrugs.

“Then one day Yugyeom noticed a necklace I had been wearing was missing.” He continues, steering them over towards one of the boys rooms. “Jungkook told me V took it because he needed it for something. So after the kids went to school for the day I went into Jungkook’s room to look for it, you know thinking he took it as a prank. Immediately I felt someone tug on my shirt. I thought it was Jaein but when I turned around, no one was there and she was in the other room playing with her toys. Then it happened again, so I looked in the mirror and I saw-”

Mark shuffles his hands awkwardly, taking a deep breath it. It’s obvious the sight affected him deeply.

“I saw this little boy that didn’t look like he was even from this time period. He ran into the hallway and I chased him, but he vanished into thin air.” The group follows the oldest back out into the hallway before heading back down the stairs. “I heard footsteps going down the stairs so I followed them, and then I saw the basement door slam shut. I went down there but I couldn’t find the kid. All of a sudden the light went out and something growled at me, so I ran. But then the door slammed shut and somehow locked by itself, and something called my name and the growling got closer. Luckily Jaein heard me screaming and opened the door for me before whatever was down there could get me. I haven’t gone back down there since.”

As they find themselves at the door to the basement, something in the air doesn’t sit right. While the whole of the house felt cold, this place feels hot to the touch. Jinyoung presses his palm against the wood and closes his eyes - it burns, a thousand degree fire rushing up his arm and black smoke engulfing his lungs. He hears dozens of pained screams, people calling out for help, but no one is coming for them.

There’s a warm hand on his left shoulder that pulls him out of his haze. He turns his head and finds Jaebum staring down at him with worry. He squeezes his hand back in reassurance, which tells him  _ I’m okay. _

He spins back to Mark and Yugyeom, who have no idea what just happened. “So we’ve got a potential spirit, this ‘V’ it calls itself.”

“And something about the basement, they want you down there.” Jaebum adds.

“What about you, Yugyeom-ssi?”

If Yugyeom wants to ask any questions about what’s going on with Jinyoung, he holds his tongue. “I guess I experienced all the little things Mark and the kids did, the cold spots, and smells, the knocking, but I thought it was just the house being old. Then when Mark told me about what happened to him, I didn’t want to believe it, so I made up an excuse that must have had some logical explanation behind it.”

“But then last Friday came, and like I was saying earlier, we had finished dinner and were watching TV. I was dozing off a little, when out of nowhere this loud bang erupted inside the house.”

Jinyoung pinches his eyebrows together, “What kind of bang?”

Mark’s eyes are wide. “I swear it sounded just like cannon fire.”

“Right.” Yugyeom carries on. “So I went outside to see if any of our neighbors lit any fireworks, maybe shot off their guns, but none of them are close enough for us to hear them. And the sound had definitely come from inside the house, so we checked inside to make sure nothing was broken or damaged, but then another explosion happened, only louder and it shook the entire foundation.”

Jaebum looks at Jinyoung, and Jinyoung knows what he’s thinking. He’s trying to piece together what kind of haunting could produce a disembodied sound loud enough to shake the foundation of an entire home. Cannonfire and gunshots aren’t rare, especially on haunted battlefields, forts, or places known for shootings. But this is something else altogether, and it’s going to take their whole team to figure out what it is.

“We jumped up to leave but right as Mark got his hand to the door this - god I still can’t even believe it as I say it, this ghost or whatever, of this man just walked through the door without even looking at us.”

Jaebum bites his lip pensively. “What did he look like?”

“Like a soldier,” Yugyeom says, still in disbelief over what happened. “His clothes were tattered and stained, but his cap and the way he presented himself made me think he was definitely a soldier.”

“What happened after that?” Jinyoung questions.

“I made Mark take the kids to the car as I followed it up stairs. It walked into the girls room, so I grabbed a bat just in case it  _ wasn’t _ what I thought it was, but when I opened the door it was nowhere to be found. That’s when we booked a motel and went to the police station the next day.”

“It’s a good thing you did,” Jinyoung nods with a short smile, blessed with how lucky they are that Jackson is well known throughout the Massachusetts police departments. When someone like this family goes to the police, they know right away to get in touch with Jackson Wang, who sends all the information over to Jinyoung and Jaebum. “It placed you directly in our path.”

Mark and Yugyeom smile, hopeful. Jinyoung looks back at the five children watching TV in the living room and makes it his mission to help them feel safe in their own home again. Jinyoung knows what it’s like to fear going to bed at night in your own home, and he vows to never let anyone, especially young children, feel that way.

Outside by the car, Jinyoung leans against the front bumper as he eyes the tree that leans over the dark lake. It screeches like a raven in an Edgar Allen Poe novel; he needs to know more about it, but he’s not physically or emotionally ready to unearth that truth yet. So he looks away, glancing at Jaebum who’s already got his soft and caring eyes on him. Jaebum’s always got his eyes on him, and sometimes Jinyoung wishes he could just stop the clock and roll around in them forever, and other times he wishes Jaebum would just quit altogether - it would make everything hurt a lot less.

Because Jaebum has always been like this. He’s never been good at showing how he feels, and it was always worse with Jinyoung. Half the time when they first became friends, Jinyoung thought Jaebum secretly hated him, because it was hard to tell how Jaebum was feeling. He was often cold, loud, and sometimes a little angry, but then he grew out of his shell into the most caring individual Jinyoung had ever met.

And Jinyoung eventually figured out why Jaebum was so emotionally constipated around him for so long, it was the same reason why Jinyoung had basically begged Jaebum to try something else after he had graduated from seminary school all those years ago. There were feelings. And they were deep. But neither would talk about them. And neither could do anything about them with Jaebum’s vows tied to God.

But it’s small moments like these, Jinyoung wonders, if there were no hauntings, no scars, no churches or vows to God, that something else could have been their lives. If they would have gone to a regular college, been regular people with regular jobs, confessed to wanting more than this and actually being able to  _ have  _ more than this. He hates to wonder but loves the pain. He as to remind himself: God chose their paths for a reason.

“They really need our help, hyung.” Jinyoung looks away, forgetting about his teenage angst for a moment. “There’s more than just two spirits here, I can feel it. There’s something worse, something evil. It seeks to harm them.”

Jaebum feels it too, Jinyoung can tell. 

“Jackson and the boys will be here soon, then we’ll know more.” Jaebum reminds him. “We’re not going to let anything happen to them.” Then to himself, “I’m not going to let anything happen to them.”

Jaebum starts off for the house, and Jinyoung just lets him go. It’s been nearly four months, but Jaebum still blames himself for what happened. There was a choice that has to be made. Jinyoung knows that, his father knows that, and everyone else knows that but Jaebum. 

It wasn’t his fault.

* * *

3 months ago

_ It was a poltergeist haunting. _

_ Or at least, that’s what it looked like on the outside. Oh how wrong they had been. _

_ Spirits entered the children’s toys and taunted them for months, the parents were seeing gruesome things that weren’t really there, and deep into the late night, TVs would flick on and let out heinous growls that signaled something sinister buried far within. _

_ The team - Jinyoung, his father, Jaebum, BamBam, and Jackson - had set up base camp the weekend they arrived, with cameras, recorders, lights, and monitors to catch evidence of the paranormal. Everything had gone smoothly at first, with few sightings here and there and a voice caught once or twice. _

_ But then the spirits became restless, angry that other people had invaded their space. They acted out, throwing objects around the house, stealing the children’s toys, and scaring everyone during their sleep with painfully twisted screeching that lasted for hours. _

_ The team had decided enough was enough, and the only way the family was to get back an ounce of normalcy in their lives was to cleanse the house with an exorcism, casting the angry spirits back to where they came from. _

_ But what they didn’t know was that all the energy the spirits had used to manifest their frustration created a rip in the fabric of their dimension that led to another place, a place far more sinister. _

_ As Jaebum was bent over his bible shouting his latin curse into the walls of the suburban home, Jinyoung was upstairs and was ripped right into the tear in their world by a dark taloned hand that was up to no good. Jinyoung’s father was hot on his heels frantically calling after his son. _

_ “Jinyoung-ah, where are you?” _

_ Blood dripped down the wall, writing a sentence.  _

With me.

_ Jinyoung’s father hung his head in fear. “Bring him back! I’ll do anything! What do you want?” _

Your soul,  _ it wrote back. _

_ He had no other choice. Demons were manipulative and conniving bastards. “Fine! Take me, just let my son live!” _

_ The ink had disappeared. There was a bright flash of light that engulfed the whole house, and then Jinyoung was back. _

_ His father was lying nearly lifeless on the floor, eyes closed but breathing strong. Jinyoung called out to him over and over, but he never awakened. Then Jackson ran into the room, shouting for Jinyoung to follow, that something had happened to Jaebum. _

_ Something had gone wrong with the exorcism. It was too strong for his body to handle, and it left him seizing on the floor. The scar on his neck deepened as his eyes rolled back into his head, and Jinyoung began weeping at the thought of losing both people he cared about in one night. _

* * *

The morning begins to bleed into the blistering heat of the mid afternoon when the rest of the team pulls up to the house. Jackson steps out of his Boston PD truck with a kick in his step and drops the keys in his pockets to meet Jinyoung and Jaebum at the door.

“Sorry if this was too soon for you Jinyoung, but these people needed help.” Jackson turns to Jaebum and gives him a couple slaps to his chest. “Didn’t think you’d be out here, what with the you know,” he gestures to the deep scar that runs up Jaebum’s neck.

“We’re fine,” the priest replies curtly.

Back at the truck, BamBam and Youngjae struggle with the equipment in the bed. “Yeah, well we’re not! Quit fucking around and give us a hand here!”

Jackson flicks the skinny-legged boy off before rushing to join him. Jinyoung laughs to himself as he descends the steps with Jaebum by his side.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, it’s just,” he tries, searching for the right words. He looks back at Jaebum, his smile tucking away into a small grin. “It feels like old times again.”

If Jaebum is feeling the same old sentiment, he doesn’t speak on it. He only pinches his lips together and works to help the other boys unload the rest of the equipment.

By the time they get everything in the house, Jinyoung and Jaebum have brought everyone up to speed on what they’re dealing with and what the family has experienced so far, then Jinyoung introduces the family to the remaining members of their team.

“And this is Jackson Wang, Boston PD.”

Mark is by Jackson’s side immediately, shaking his hand furiously. “I cannot tell you how thankful I am that you got us in touch with Jinyoung-ssi and Father Im.”

Aside from his hand being effectively crushed, Jackson smiles, looking the man up and down. “No problem. But don’t thank me, thank the miracle workers. I’m just the handsome muscle man.”

The set of Jackson’s flirtatious eyebrow raise has Mark turning pink and stuttering, “R-right.”

Jinyoung clears his throat in mock annoyance. “This is BamBam, our tech guy. We plucked him right out of Univeristy with a film degree. He’s going to be setting up audio equipment to try and pick up sounds we may not hear, cameras to catch things we might not see with the naked eye, and he’ll be videoing as soon as something happens.”

BamBam raises his hand and waves. “Nice to meet you guys.”

“And this is Choi Youngjae,” Jaebum gestures to the man dressed in his long sleeved grey deacon uniform, almost an exact copy of Jaebum’s priest shirt, only with an inch long cross pinned to the left of his chest. 

The deacon bows. “Very nice to meet you all.”

“Youngjae is going to be shadowing me on this case,” Jaebum continues. “He has to learn all about dealing with the unholy and exorcisms before he can be ordained as a priest.”

Yugyeom blinks back. “Did you say, exorcisms?”

“He’s not saying we’ll need to perform an exorcism,” Jinyoung jumps in, shooting Jaebum a harsh glare. “He’s saying it’s going to be a part of Youngjae’s training. Like we said before, we still don’t know what all we’re dealing with here, so the outcomes are endless.”

Jinyoung’s words seemed to have calmed the family for now, but there’s still so much to do and go over. He’s deep in his thoughts about the house, who could be haunting here and who could be out for blood, and he doesn’t notice who suggests it, but someone recommends that they should get all the equipment set up around the house and then Jackson, BamBam and Youngjae will go over everything they found when researching the house and the property.

They go throughout the house setting up BamBam’s devices, positioning a camera that takes in all of the living room in the far back corner by the TV, one that points up the staircase, one in the second story hallway, one in each of the bedrooms, one aimed straight at the door that leads into the basement, and one inside the lower room itself.

As they set up the last of their cameras in the basement, Jinyoung glances up the steps to where Mark watches by the door. He told them them didn’t want to ever come back down here, not after what happened. And Jinyoung understood why; after getting the chilling presence of a couple screaming souls overcome by their own pain, Jinyoung was beginning to think something else must have happened here than just a normal passing. It was gruesome and violent, and the spirits here are angry because of it.

In passing Jinyoung notices an area along the far left wall that’s been covered in wooden boards, and wonders briefly what it could be. The thought of it ends with a stomach ache, most likely from some force down there telling him to back away from it, so he presses on with the rest of the team back to the first floor.

“What’s that area boarded up down there?” He asks Mark.

“Got no clue,” he says. “It came with the house. It’s been there before we even came here as kids.”

It’s reached sundown now, after the couple hours it took to get the audio and visual equipment set up, so Jinyoung gathers the team plus Mark and Yugyeom in the kitchen and begins running down how everything is going to go.

“Alright, we want you to do everything you normally would on a regular night at home. We have microphones and cameras posted in every room in the house. If something happens, we will catch it.”

BamBam continues on, “The cameras are run by a temperature sensor, so if a cold spot passes in front of one, it will cause the camera to go off. I’ll have my camcorder going anytime anyone experiences something.”

“Youngjae and I will be here in case we need a blessing or anything else.”

“And of course you’ve got me,” Jackson smiles coyly in Mark’s direction.

Jinyoung rolls his eyes and nudges Jackson out of his semi-inappropriate daze so that they can get a move on in their debriefing.

“Right, so let us give you guys the rundown on the history we could find of this place real quick.”

Jackson steps around towards the thin white kitchen table with various papers and folders in hand, and the rest of the group follows. Youngjae makes for his bag and slides out his own binder, setting it down before the seven of them.

From his folder Jackson pulls out a scanned copy of an old image - yellowed with brown age spots bruising the top corners. In the corner it reads:  _ 1864. _

Despite the age of the image it’s impossible not to see how clearly the home they’re standing in rests in the middle of the photograph, almost brand new. A sign in front of the house reads  _ Massachusetts Rehabilitation Home for Wounded Soldiers. _

“The home was built in 1863 and opened in 1864 as a rehab home for wounded Civil War soldiers,” Jackson relays. He pulls out another photograph, this one of a few wounded men in the home and nurses by their side. “They housed hundreds of men over the years, and most of them got better and went home.”

“But some of them,” BamBam adds for dramatic effect, “Never left.”

Jackson then pulls out a newspaper clipping from 1865 with an image of a soldier named George Henry at the top. “There have been reports that up to two dozen men went missing from the home. They were here one day and then poof, vanished just like that.”

Jinyoung’s mind races towards the basements and the dozens of voices he heard screaming out in pain. He wonders…

“After more men started disappearing they called in the city officials to come investigate, and they found that one of the nurses, nurse Bellerive, had clothes hidden under the floorboards in her room stained with blood.”

Another picture is placed on the table, this time of a woman in her late twenties with wild dark hair and eyes that sink into Jinyoung’s soul. There’s a foul taste in the back of his mouth. The feeling that surrounds this house, he gets it looking at her picture.

“What happened to her?” Yugyeom asks.

“I checked both the library and police databases, but neither were clear on that,” Jackson responds with a shrug. “But whatever happened, they caught her.”

Jinyoung peeks at Jaebum, who’s mulling the information over along with the rest of the group. “Well, this would explain the apparition of the soldier you all saw. If they were murdered here by Bellerive, they’re likely stuck here with no way out.”

Mark visibly tenses. “What about the cannon fire?”

“If these soldiers were on a battlefield, it’s likely their experiences are manifesting themselves.” Jaebum wipes a hand over his face and sighs. “Okay, what else?”

The images that surround the civil war home are tucked away neatly while Youngjae opens up his binder. “The rehab home closed down in 1866 and the building was condemned by the town pastor at the time. It wasn’t until 1941 that the property was sold in auction due to the financial crisis of World War I to a woman named Kwon Boa.”

Mark reaches subconsciously for the necklace that’s no longer around his neck. “Our foster mother.”

“She opened it officially in 1942 as Boa’s Home for Youth,” Youngjae nods, turning to a page in the binder that shows a picture from over forty years ago of a young woman standing in front of the remodeled home. “There were originally twelve foster children in 1942, until one of the boys’ bodies turned up in a patch of grass by the road.”

Jinyoung feels the deep grief with the rest of the men around him, watching as Youngjae pulls out an image of a bright little boy in black shorts and a white polo, smiling like he had the rest of his life to look forward to.

“His name was Lee Seokmin, he was only nine years old when he passed,” Youngjae goes on to explain despite the heavy feeling in the room. “The coroner determined his cause of death to be a grand mal seizure.” 

“So he wasn’t murdered, that’s a good thing,” Jaebum notes. “That means it’s less likely that his presence it still here. Usually it’s only those who were killed brutally that attach themselves to the mortal realm.”

“Things were quite for about twenty years, but then something happened in 1963 that I’m sure you guys remember.” Youngjae points to both Mark and Yugyeom, and like a fire poker stoking the flames, both of their faces light up instantly with the memory.

“Taehyung.”

Youngjae nods.

Jinyoung and Jaebum glance around the room, waiting to be let in on the secret.

“Who’s Taehyung?”

“Taehyungie was this kid we used to live in the home with.” Yugyeom answer, face stock with remembrance.

Mark’s eyes stare off in wonder. “I had forgotten all about him. He was one of my only friends back then, besides Yugyeom.” He gulps, the memory fading slowly, like a movie picture rolling. “When I was nine they found his body in the lake. Apparently he fell in and drowned.”

Youngjae looks over at Mark in perplexion. “Who told you that?”

“Miss Boa and her husband, why?”

Without a word, Youngjae passes another newspaper clipping Mark’s way. Jinyoung glances over his shoulder, reading the headline  _ Missing Salem Boy Still Not Found _ dated months after his supposed death.

Mark stares back in confusion. “Maybe they just told you that story to protect you all because you were kids, but there were no reports of anyone ever finding his body.”

Jaebum offers words of comfort. “Youngjae is right, they likely told you that because you were all too young to register what was really going on.”

“You’re right.” Mark shrugs, biting his lip. “Do you have a picture of him?”

Youngjae nods, handing another picture over. It’s a photograph of Miss Boa and her husband standing next to the children they fostered who stand in two rows in front of the house. At the bottom of the image, the date reads  _ 1962 _ .

“Oh wow,” Yugyeom hovers over Mark’s shoulder. “Look, that’s us when we were kids.”

Mark’s eyes scroll across the image, taking in the faces of the children he used to call family. Jinyoung watches in ernest, wonders if he even keeps in contact with most of them.

“Wait.” Mark’s eyes latch onto one face in particular nestled next to Miss Boa. They widen in alarm as he points to another child. “This is the boy I saw in the house.”

The child is just like the others, dark brown hair, dressed in khakis and a shirt. But Jinyoung senses who it is immediately. “That’s Kim Taehyung.”

Then like a switch is flipped, Mark’s face nearly crumbles to pieces. The six watch on as the eldest falls numbly into a table chair and struggles to find the words to speak.

“I saw Taehyungie?”

* * *

The first couple of hours spent in the home are a test of patience and waiting longingly for something to happen. The children are nervous, as anyone would be. But Jinyoung can tell they feel a lot safer with the five of them here. If anything goes wrong, they’ll know what to do. They’ve been through so much shit with each other it’s amazing they haven’t conquered hell itself.

The children have followed their regular nightly routines and scurried off to bed, leaving only the adults downstairs to talk amongst themselves before they film themselves going around the house in order to try and call out to any of the spirits.

They set up with two teams for evidence gathering, Jinyoung leading the first while BamBam films and Jaebum records audio, and Youngjae and Jackson on the second floor with Jackson filming and Youngjae on sound duty.

Mark and Yugyeom split up as well, Mark following close behind Jackson and Youngjae while Yugyeom sticks to Jinyoung’s team.

They catch nothing, seemingly no one is there or brought out by their words. Jinyoung tries his best, provoking the spirit of Taehyung with promises of toys and games with his friends, but nothing happens. 

Jackson attempts to draw out the soldier that had vanished upstairs the one time, eye pressed close into the lens of his eight millimeter camcorder. “Hey buddy, where are you? Your loved one is here! Huh? Your pretty girlfriend is here to see you!”

When all they get in return is silence, Jackson tries a different approach. “Okay maybe not into girls. Oh, we’ve got a pretty boy here to see you!”

The camera turns towards Mark’s blushing face, causing Jackson to giggle with pride. Until Youngjae smacks him in the stomach with his mic that is, and Jackson grunts out in pain.

“Yah, keep it in your pants hyung. We’ve got a job to do. Let’s go meet the rest of the guys downstairs.”

Jackson throws up an ‘okay’ sign with his empty hand from where he’s doubled over, watching Youngjae descend the stairs as he rights himself. Mark is still there, arms crossed and staring a him. 

“Youngjae-ssi is right,” he starts with a smug grin.“Keep this up and when this is all over I’ll have to come down to your station and give you a piece of my mind.”

Before Jackson can say anything Mark’s face does a 180, flipping into a twisted smirk as he kicks off his heels with a wink. Jackson just stands there, dumbfounded, before remembering he really does have a job to do and he shouldn’t be flirting with those involved in the case. But if they flirted back, was there really any harm done?

Jackson catches up to the rest of the team just in time to get his camera out to capture what takes place next.

Jinyoung, Jaebum and BamBam are all down in the basement trying to get the spirit of Taehyung to reach out to them in some form or another, whether it be as a cold spot, an EVP, or a full bodied apparition.

Jaebum relays a message to the child about not needing to be afraid,  _ we’re not going to hurt you _ , when Jinyoung feels the same dark energy transpire around them. Like a punch to the gut he doubles over with nausea, almost unable to stand from the force of it all.

Jaebum notices right away, quickly rushing to his side. “Hey, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“I’m okay.” Jinyoung waves his pain off. He’s dealt with worse. “Something’s down here with us.”

The trio glance around, BamBam aiming his 8mm around the room to not miss anything. 

“Show yourself!” Jaebum spits, hand resting perfectly in the groove of Jinyoung’s shoulder, like it was made to be there. “I said show yourself!”

The basement door slams closed.

BamBam mutters a, “Shit!”, under his breath, meaning he must have missed it. Hopefully, two cameras might mean Jackson could have caught it from the other side.

The door then swings open as the man in question stumbles a few steps down, giving a thumbs up. “I got it! You guys all good down here?”

Jaebum and BamBam are fine, but Jinyoung wishes he could say the same thing. He excuses himself calmly and makes a beeline for the nearest bathroom where he forgets to lock the door before he disposes all his dinner in the sink.

It’s rough, being supernaturally aware. The gifts he’s been given, they take a toll on his body. He wouldn’t expect them not to - with great power comes great responsibility. He’s not the holy father, and there are certain disadvantages that come with righteous gifts. This is one of them. But Jinyoung wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Just as he’s finished dumping his pot noodles into the sink and begins the clean up process, there’s a series of knocks at the door.

“Jinyoungie?” Jaebum’s soulful voice rings out with worry as he nudges the door open an inch. “Are you okay?”

Busying himself by gargling his mouth with water to rid the foul taste, Jinyoung peeks in the mirror as he spits back into the basin with a huff. 

“I’ve been better,” he tries to laugh off. 

Jaebum isn’t feeling the humor in it. “Jinyoung-ah-”

“Don’t,” Jinyoung interrupts, grabbing a washcloth to pat his mouth dry. He tries and fails not to stare at the line of Jaebum’s displeased mouth in the mirror. “I know what you’re going to say. But I’m ready. I’m fine. This used to happen to me all the time, remember? It’s part of the job. You know better than anyone that what we do takes a toll on our bodies.”

On instinct, Jaebum’s hand reaches for the scar that runs under his chin. He understands more so than Jinyoung does.

Jinyoung turns to face Jaebum finally, and his hand reaches out unconsciously to touch the broken flesh on Jaebum’s neck. It’s coarse and jagged, deep and discolored from all the years of being active, but it’s Jaebum’s purple heart. It’s a sign of all the lives he’s saved.

Jinyoung realizes what he’s doing too late and pulls back, flushing pink to the tips of his ears. He catches Jaebum’s eyes by mistake, noticing his devotion manifesting with each swirling brown hue. It scares him, because they can’t have this. This moment isn’t theirs to share - Jaebum is leaving for the Vatican and he’s likely never coming back.

“S-stop looking at me like that,” Jinyoung stutters.

“Looking at you like what?”

Jinyoung sighs, dropping his head. “You know what.”

Jaebum blinks, realizing his mistake. He lets some of the affection in his eyes fade away for now. He’s back to Father Im who can’t have any relations with those outside his family. He hovers in the doorway with his back to Jinyoung.

“I just can’t lose you.”

In the blink of an eye he’s gone, and Jinyoung takes another moment to compose himself. 

“You already have.”

* * *

For the sake of all the adults, the ruckus made downstairs was quiet enough to not disturb the little ones. Either that or they had crashed hard from the sugar high induced from the mounds of razzles and sweet tarts Jackson had given them after dinner.

It bleeds late into the night as they work, going over some of the audio and video captured from earlier to see if something was found that they hadn’t seen before - particularly when the door had slammed on its own.

Mark and Yugyeom stay up with them in interest, even though the guys insist that they should go to bed. Mark hovers over Jackson and Jinyoung’s shoulders while they pour over the footage, but Yugyeom looks over to find BamBam fiddling with one of his cameras in the hallway and it peaks his interest.

“Catch anything good?”

BamBam lifts his eyes and grins. “Hopefully. I won’t know until I take the film for development tomorrow.”

“So…. I was just wondering,” Yugyeom draws out after a moment of surveying the equipment. He lowers his voice and looks away from the others. “How did Father Im get his, you know?”

Even without the gesture to Yugyeom’s neck, the film student knows what he’s referring to right away.

“I don’t know if they want me talking about it, but it’s public news anyway.” BamBam pops a screw loose on the camera mount to remove the body, deep in thought. “A couple of months ago we were on this poltergeist case in Delaware. It was awful, kids disappearing in the closets, dead bodies being unearthed, a tree trying to eat the son. A nightmare.” In practiced movements, the used film reel is replaced in one quick swoop. “Jaebum hyung, I mean  _ Father Im _ was exorcising the house while Jinyoung hyung and his dad helped the family escape. Well, something went wrong and a demon had gotten a hold of Jinyoung hyung, pulled him into it’s dimension. Now demons are only after one thing.”

Yugyeom’s eyes widen. “What’s that?”

“A soul,” BamBam emphasizes, sighing in recollection. “It had promised to give Jinyoung hyung back if it could take another’s soul. So without hesitation Jinyoung hyung’s dad said yes.”

“Did he…?”

“Die? No. Jaebum hyung managed to exorcise the house right as the demon took his soul. It must have messed the transaction up or something, because Jinyoung hyung’s dad was left in a coma with no brain function. He’s technically still alive, but there’s no chance of him coming back.”

“And so with Father Im…?”

“Right right right, sorry.” BamBam says as he reattaches his camera, popping it back into place and checking it’s functions. “So each time Jaebum hyung performs an exorcism, it like, takes a piece of him with it. The scar grows each time he does one. His body goes through hell man, and that time since so much was happening, I think it was too overwhelming for him. After the exorcism was over he started seizing and didn’t stop until we got him to a hospital.”

Yugyeom stares back, he color now drained from his face. He scratches the back of his neck nervously. “Oh.”

The pair quiets as Yugyeom glances over at Jaebum where he’s tucked away at the kitchen table. Jaebum feels a pair of eyes on him and looks up, only for Yugyeom to spin around and pretend like nothing had happened.

They all work in silence, nothing more than breathy hums and audio recordings echoing across the room. Then suddenly,

_ Tap. Tap. Tap. _

Heads shift as ears try to search out the direction of the disembodied sound. Jinyoung looks at the clock - 2:15.

_ Tap. Tap. Tap. _

The group shifts positions, Jinyoung grabbing a recorder and rounding the corner towards the basement door and Jaebum towards the staircase. BamBam and Jackson have their cameras up and rolling, ready for any action that may come their way.

Waiting for something to manifest is always the hardest part of the job, and as the house dips into silence again, Jinyoung thinks they’ve just missed a crucial experience. His own breath is loud in the headphones that cover his ears as he waits with a stammering in his chest.

_ Tap. Tap. Tap. _

Jinyoung breathes out a groan of relief, waiting for more. But this time, it seems the moment has fully passed.

As the seven of them make their way back to the kitchen, Jaebum set the recorder down on the table. “Three rounds of three.”

“I can’t pinpoint exactly where it’s coming from,” Jinyoung adds.

Jinyoung hands the headphones over to let each person in the group have a turn to listen, everyone coming to the same conclusions. The sounds are there,  _ somewhere _ , but because it’s impossible to say exactly where they sound like they’re coming from, it could mean whatever is knocking could be doing it from an entirely different dimension within the house. And if that’s true, there’s only one conclusion.

A demon.

Shaking his head, Jinyoung keeps that theory in the back of his mind until they can figure out the potential demon it is and how it got here. They’ve gone through the history of the house so there must be something they’ve missed along the way, the only problem now is how they’ll go about finding it.

“Mark hyungie, I couldn’t sleep.”

In the corner of the kitchen Jungkook startles the group, rubbing the tiredness from his eyes. The circle parts for the child as he steps into it to crawl into Mark’s lap, yawning as his foster brother pulls him up happily.

Jungkook sleepily looks over the series of images on the table. “Why do you have a picture of V?”

“What do you mean?” Mark more alerted, asks back.

“There,” Jungkook’s small hand reaches out to grab at the photo of the foster home when Mark and Yugyeom where younger. “That’s V.”

Mark traces his finger to the little child perched next to miss Boa at the edge of the picture. He stops, unblinking. Jinyoung rushes over, catching a glimpse at who the child is pointing at. It’s Kim Taehyung.

“V….” Mark whispers to himself, half in disbelief and half like he’s trying to solve a puzzle. “V.” He repeats. “V. V! Now I remember! Taehyung used to call himself ‘V the superhero’! I can’t believe I didn’t put it together until now.”

It makes sense then, as Jinyoung starts putting things together from the start, this spirit that calls itself ‘V’ was the boy that disappeared years ago. If he was murdered violently and his body was never found, then that’s why his spirit remains. He likely found trust in Jungkook because of how close they are in age and because the boy has an air of innocence that surrounds him like a calling card. Jinyoung doesn’t believe the spirit of Taehyung means to harm the child, no, he’s only trapped here beyond his control, trying to survive as best he can until he can find a way home.

“He’s the reason I can’t sleep,” Jungkook pouts, nuzzling further into Mark’s lap. “He’s playing with my toys.”

That gives Jinyoung an idea. He crouches to meet Jungkook’s eyes. “Do you think we’d be able to go upstairs and play with V?”

This must be the best idea the child has ever heard of, because without any further prompting Jungkook’s messy brown mop of hair is bouncing as he hops off Mark’s lap and darts out of the kitchen, which earns a grunt from the older.

“Sure!”

Getting right back into action like the experienced team they are, Jackson and BamBam each grab a camcorder with Youngjae on audio duty, trailing behind Jinyoung and Jaebum who follow hot on Mark and Yugyeom’s heels behind Jungkook.

Jungkook reaches the staircase and suddenly a camera flash lights up the entryway. The child doesn’t seem to notice, too preoccupied with getting to introduce his imaginary friend to all these new people. The others however catch the full retinal blowing jolt to their systems, and watch on as the camera flashes two more times before Jungkook makes it to his room.

“Wait, why are the lights going off?” Mark questions, Jungkook never leaving his eye line.

Jaebum’s the one who urges them forward. “Because something’s followed him upstairs.”

It’s a flurry of legs and other restless body parts until they can all dog pile into Jungkook and Chan’s room, and by that time, Chan is already sitting up in bed half awake.

“Why did the camera go off?” He croaks while climbing out of his sheets, sleep coating his vocal cords.

“Shhh,” Yugyeom quiets, tugging the oldest of the children to him by the shoulders.

On the other side of the room near Jungkook’s bed, his bucket of toys lays dumped across the floor haphazardly. Jungkook finds a seat on the floor and sits criss cross applesauce, picking at one of his many transformers.

Mark drops slowly to his knees. “Is he here?”

Jungkook nods in silence. He extends his hand, pointing to the empty space across from them.

“Mark,” Jinyoung coaxes. “Try talking to him.”

“Um.” Wiping his hands on his pants, Mark’s more nervous than he thought he’d be. He gulps, steadying his breathing. “H-hi Taehyung-ah,  _ V _ . It’s me, Mark. Do you remember? We used to play together. You were one of my best friends.”

Another flash from the camera brightens the room faster than the flap of a butterfly’s wings. On the screen, BamBam points out zebra lines that seem to have taken the shape of something exactly where Jungkook said V is. By the looks of it, it appears to be a child sitting down, just like Jungkook is doing.

Youngjae pinches his brows together in confusion as he starts to notice the recorder in his hand begins tuning by itself. The deacon looks up, listening carefully to the second set of sounds coming through. “I’m picking up something on the mic here.”

Jinyoung and Jaebum stagger over, flipping the headphones over.

_ “Kkkkiilllllll ttthhheeeeeeemmmmmm.” _

His stomach drops. Jinyoung looks back to Mark, concern welling inside his chest. Whatever spirit of his old friend is before them, it wasn’t who Mark thought it was. At least the outline of it still appears on their cameras, so if they monitor it, everyone will be okay.

Jinyoung motions for Mark to keep going.

“Taehyungie, you can talk to me. These are my friends, they’re not going to hurt you.”

Something must not set well with Mark’s words, because right as he says them, the room drops into an uneasy silence with zero data coming through on any device.

Jackson smacks his camera. “What the - pardon my language Father - hell? It just charged this fucking battery!”

“The recorder died too,” Youngjae notes, dropping the device to his side.

BamBam chimes in about his own camera being toast, so Jinyoung decides to tune them out. He peers around, putting all the pieces together. A spirit would need a lot of energy it manifest itself, draining the batteries from multiple places wouldn’t be enough. It would have start taking it from- 

The air becomes much colder where Jinyoung stands, his fingers nearly freezing to the touch. No one else seems to notice as Jinyoung huffs an icy breath out - the other guys are checking on their equipment, Yugyeom and Chan are waiting in the hall, and Mark is still trying to talk to V with Jungkook.

Then, to make matters worse, something grazes by Jinyoung’s exposed hand. He pulls back and hisses, the sensation fiery to the touch. Even though it only lasted a brief second, he can still feel the heat passing through him, like lava crawling down his hand.

It’s reminiscent of what he felt when he pressed against the basement door, only this time he catches a glimpse of a deep and disturbing emotion that comes with it: venegence.

Whatever drained their batteries used it to manifest in the room, and Jinyoung just accidentally caught his hand on the tail end of it. He knows whatever that thing is means business, it means to harm, it means to avenge itself, and it means to kill.

“Jinyoung-ah, are you okay?” At his side the moment he knows something is off, Jaebum scans Jinyoung from top to bottom before his eyes land on the hand cradled to his chest.

Jinyoung finds Jaebum’s eyes. Their bond is so strong that he already knows what they convey. “There’s something else here.”

“I’ll gather everyone downstairs.” Jaebum nods.

The priest steps away from Jinyoung to give everyone new direction, while Jinyoung finds his way back over to Mark and Jungkook.

Out of nowhere, a high pitched scream from one of the girls rings out from down the hall. Without a second thought everyone is fast on their feet and down the hall to make sure either Ryujin or Tzuyu is alright.

All those except Jinyoung, Mark, and Jungkook.

Jaebum is the last one out in the commotion, and before Jinyoung can reach the door, it slams shut it his face by itself. It forces him back on his heels, but it takes less than a millisecond for Jinyoung to kick right back into action.

He reaches for the door handle, but it doesn’t budge. He yanks and yanks with all his might, letting Mark have a go at it. On the other side, he hears Jaebum screaming and trying the same thing to no avail.

“Jinyoung-ah!”

At the same time, the camera flash goes off with a ‘ _ pop! _ ’ that scares Jungkook into Mark’s arms. Mark too is afraid, his eyes wide in fear and body shaking as he holds the nine year old below him like this is the end.

The camera begins popping of in a series of, 

_ Flash! Flash! Flash! Flash!  _

Jinyoung turns back to the door and slams his palms against the wood, the adrenaline working in his body to ease the pain. He wouldn’t be human if he was never scared. What they do, it’s terrifying. They face demonic, soulless creatures that can kill them in their sleep. He wasn’t scared before - or at least he hides it well.

But his mind keeps jumping back to the accident, and how he had been so helpless under the control of that demon, trapped in a different realm with no way of escaping unless it let him out. And because of that, his father had to die to save him.

Before Jinyoung knows it, his chest starts rising and falling rapidly as he starts to hyperventilate. He will not let himself be overpowered by another demon, and will not let another person sacrifice themselves for him.

The banging and screaming continues from both sides.

“Hyung!”

“Jinyoung-ah!”

“Jungkookie!”

But then another, more distinct and spine-chilling voice reverberates off the walls, making the hair on the back of Jinyoung’s neck stand on end.

_ “KKKIIIIILLLLLLLL TTTHHHEEEEEEMMMMMMM.” _

It’s still there. 

Then Jinyoung sees something mere seconds before it happens.

Time slows down and he has no time to think as he grabs Mark and Jungkook by anywhere he can get his hands on first - Mark’s collar and Jungkook’s sleeve - shoving them roughly in front of him so he can block them with his body and covering their heads with his hands.

His broader than them, which he’s thankful for when the window blows out behind them, spraying their backs with delicate shards of glass. Jinyoung is hit with the brunt force of it all, wincing at the stinging sensations he feels with each movement. 

Jaebum finally gets the door open, and after a few rounds of “What the hell?” from the other guys, the three are pulled to their feet and dragged into the hallway.

Yugyeom is by Mark and Jungkook’s side immediately, the pair checking to see if the boy is okay. 

Jackson glances into the room and calls out, “I’m getting the first aid kit,” before scurrying down to his truck.

Jinyoung, winded and out of breath, likely bleeding in multiple spots, gasps when he gets pulled abruptly into Jaebum’s chest and one arm wraps around his waist while the other curls into the mess of sweat he calls his hair.

“Hyung, I’m covered in glass,” Jinyoung announces a bit awkwardly, unsure how to feel with one, everyone watching such a private moment that he knows the boys will grill him for later and two, because he just doesn’t know how to act around Jaebum anymore.

But despite his inner conflict, Jinyoung gives in to the warmth that Jaebum’s body brings. He wishes when he closes his eyes and tucks his head on his shoulders that they were far away from here, on a beach in Miami, or at a nightclub dancing in Los Angeles. Something where they could just  _ be. _

How badly he wishes they could just be.

Jaebum pulls back first, arm still wrapped around Jinyoung’s waist. His other hand detangles from Jinyoung’s hair, holding quite a large piece of glass, but luckily there’s no blood with it. Jinyoung rolls his eyes, but they both share a small smile anyway.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” 

* * *

After the fun of the night calms down, Mark and Yugyeom insist that everyone sleeps downstairs together, lest anything else happens.

Jinyoung assures them that it isn’t likely that a commotion like  _ that _ will happen again. He makes BamBam switch off all camcorders and audio recorders so there’s no chance of that spirit manifesting itself again.

Mark, Yugyeom, and the kids are all in various positions on the couch, love seat, and the floor, huddled together to keep safe. They all passed out about ten minutes after their heads hit the pillows. Tzuyu snores softly where she’s snuggled into the couch opposite of Ryujin; Jinyoung’s just glad her screams were only due to a rat crawling across her floor and not anything else.

Jackson and BamBam are busy cleaning up the mess that was made upstairs after insisting Jinyoung get some rest and Jaebum offering to make sure he didn’t need any stitches. Youngjae sits propped in a chair leaned against the fridge, mouth parted wide where he sleeps soundly without a care in the world. He’s accustomed to what they do, helped out a few times even, but he’s never gone this far with them.

Jinyoung digs his hands into the warm green fleece blanket to wrap it further around his body, a comforting gesture given to him by Yugyeom.

_ “Kill them.” _

The satanic voice plays itself in his mind over and over like a record stuck on repeat. It still makes the hair on his arms rise. 

It only stops when Jaebum returns from the stove with a fresh cup of herbal tea, setting it in front of him. He joins Jinyoung a moment later with more of the first aid kit to finish cleaning up Jinyoung’s wounds after he’d dusted the glass off carefully and taken a quick shower.

He’s checked, and there’s not much. Despite the glass mainly smashing into his back his shirt protected him enough to only get a few minor scrapes. However he did manage a couple of cuts on his arms and a pretty nasty gash on his cheek.

As Jaebum’s delicate hands remove the temporary bandage Jinyoung had placed on after his shower to soak up the bleeding, Jinyoung can’t help but hear the voice threaten them again. After tonight, he believes his suspicions are correct. They’ve got a demonic haunting on their hands. But it is not from the spirit of Kim Taehyung or any of the soldiers that passed here. They just have to figure out from what.

“That was not the voice of a child’s spirit.” He states, gazing at how Jaebum’s eyes have fallen to where his hands work smoothly. He relishes in the graze of his fingers over his cheek even if he doesn’t mean to. “Whatever was saying that, I felt it up there. It touched my hand, hyung. It wasn’t even human. It wants this family dead. And if we’re not careful, it’ll get it’s wish.”

To preoccupy himself and not think about the scope of Jaebum’s proximity to him, the warmth of his body, and the caress of his fingertips on his face, Jinyoung grabs his mug and takes a swig of his tea without letting it cool all the way. It burns on the way down and he winces, but it’s not as bad as it could have been. 

Jaebum hardly notices anyway, applying a thick layer of antibiotic ointment after clearing away the dried blood from the cut. 

Jinyoung knows Jaebum is just tending to his wound, he is cleaning up his blood for goodness sake, but something about the action seems so intimate that Jinyoung finds himself looking up without permission, falling right into the trap of Jaebum’s tranquil brown eyes. 

He hadn’t noticed before how close they had gotten until Jaebum’s knees are bumping into his own when he reaches over into the first aid kit to grab a bandage. He doesn’t move back, pressing even further as he idly unwraps the bandage and presses it gently to Jinyoung’s cheek.

When Jaebum’s hand remains slotted there at the side of his face, thumb sliding slowly back and forth over the bandage, Jinyoung’s heart rate quickens, and he has to keep himself from shuddering out a breath. 

Jinyoung hates the way Jaebum looks at him. Like Jinyoung hung the moon. Like Jaebum can hold him in his arms and tell him everything’s going to be alright. Like they can be something real. He hates it.

But he’d be lying if he said he didn’t relish in it. 

His biggest, deepest desire. The person he can’t have, showing him an ounce of his feelings. Jinyoung can lie to himself and indulge in them for a second before he has to return to the real world. So he does.

Jinyoung will come to regret it later, but for the sake of his sanity he loses himself briefly for a moment, closing his eyes as he nuzzles his cheek into Jaebum’s hand. He feels the older tense slightly, so to keep the moment lasting longer Jinyoung snakes his own hand up to cover Jaebum’s with his.

Jaebum relaxes under him, and Jinyoung gives it just a few more seconds before he decides it’s time. He knows that if he wants his heart to remain intact he has to be the one to walk away. It will be harder in the long run if he keeps letting himself have little moments like these, but for the sake of his soul he has to start doing what’s best for him.

He drops Jaebum’s hand with a light squeeze and stands up to dump the rest of his tea down the sink. Suddenly he’s not very thirsty.

“Get some rest, Jinyoung-ah, I’ll keep watch.”

Jinyoung pouts, rolling his eyes. It was only three thirty, he wasn’t even that tired.

A yawn hits him out of nowhere as he’s rinsing his mug out. Alright, maybe he  _ was  _ that tired.

“Look, I’ll wake Youngjae up to guard with me. We’ll be unbeatable.”

“Fine,” he sneers, giving Jaebum a good finger to the chest. “But wake me up as soon as you get sleepy.”

Sleeping on the table isn’t the most unusual place he’s been forced to sleep, but it does the trick, and within minutes of his head laying across his arms he’s out like a light. 


	3. Oppression

Saturday morning welcomes a brighter and somehow out of all things, a more optimistic day for everyone as they wake up (albeit a little later than usual) with a feeling of security that basks over them like the glowing rays from the sun.

Despite the events of the previous night that had given the kids a good shakening up, nothing else had happened throughout the night as each team member took a turn patrolling the home. Perhaps their Catholic faith was off putting to whatever demonic entity had made it’s claim in the home, or maybe it had run out of energy after trying to impale them with glass last night.

Whatever the reason may be, the children are all visibly more at ease as they help push each other into their chairs at the kitchen table (after Jackson and BamBam had cleared everything away of course) and everyone works together to make a nice homemade breakfast to take the edge off.

In fact it seems to be their presence, for that matter, that seems to put the kids more at ease. Whereas last night they were shy and reserved, only sticking to each other, now they yearn for conversation as Jackson puts on his best storytelling voice to outlandishly tell them about the time he was chasing this guy on his police motorcycle because he had robbed a store with a shotgun.

“And then the guy goes bbbbbrrrrrrr!!!!! Right over the bridge in his truck so I follow him up the rails and jump the bridge to get to him-!”

“That did not happen!” Jinyoung chuckles flabbergastingly with his spatula, still managing to flip the perfect pancake.

“You weren’t there Jinyoung-ah, you don’t know!”

Mark giggles beside Jinyoung where he’s helping stir up more pancake mix. “Well go on then!”

“Than you, Mark!” Jackson winks, much to the obliviousness of the children, who only stare in wonder with syrup dripping from their forks. “So like I was saying, I hop the bridge on my motorcycle and land in the back of his truck. He pulls his gun out and BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM!!!!”

The kids jump back, as do Youngjae and BamBam, who lean against the walls listening in and rolling their eyes.

“Then what?” Chan asks, eyes full of wonder and excitement.

“Then he shot me.”

The entire table erupts.

“He did?!”

“What?!”

“Where!?”

The room wafts into silence. The team has heard this story before - maybe not as animated - so they don’t need to turn around as Jackson rolls up the sleeve of his tan uniform shirt on his left side, revealing a faded pink scar no bigger than the size of a nickel. The kids however, look on with pure interest and gaping mouths. Mark finds himself sneaking a glance over as well.

“I pretended to play dead and when he got out of his car… BOOM!” For added emphasis, Jackson sticks his fingers out like a gun and pretends to pump the guy full of lead. “I didn’t kill him, got him just like he got me. Then I arrested him and took him to jail.”

It takes mere seconds for the kids to erupt into non coherent joyous rambling.

A few feet away in the laundry room, Jaebum has to plug his ears until the screaming stops. He peeks into the kitchen and finds himself smiling anyway, proud that despite everything that’s happened, the children have been able to find laughter in the smallest of things.

That’s what their job is all about. Saving people and getting them the help they need. Children most importantly are their top priority when it comes to hauntings like these, and Jaebum knows deep within his soul God gave him this job for a reason - for this reason - to protect the vulnerable and keep the wicked from preying on the innocent.

He only wishes God would tell him why he was to fail so badly then, if this was his true calling. It still pains him, of course it does - he sees it every night when he goes to sleep. The poltergeist they had been so sure they could take on, the vengeful spirits that were angrier than anyone he’d ever seen before, the demonic entities that had taken Jinyoung with no promises of letting him go, and worst of all, Jinyoung’s father agreeing to give his life for his son’s.

Jaebum’s been secure in his faith, he always has been. But ever since the accident that left him scarred both physically and mentally, he sometimes finds himself wondering if this is really his chosen path or not. Why would God choose him for this life if it meant a piece of himself would die every time he cleansed a house? Why would God give him these abilities if it meant he might only be around to use them for a brief period in time? And most of all, why would God let him fail with Jinyoung’s father, letting the burden rest so heavily on his shoulders for all to bear witness?

Jinyoung has pleaded with Jaebum over and over again that it was nothing of his doing, but Jaebum cannot bring himself to believe that. If he was the most renowned priest on the east coast under thirty, interested in by the Vatican and the Pope, then he would have perfected his exorcism on the poltergeist. He wouldn’t have lost Jinyoung’s father.

Then there are other times Jaebum hates to admit that he’s found himself wondering what it would be like if he hadn’t have chosen to become a priest. His father was one, but had never pressured Jaebum to become one. He had chosen it on his own, after he felt the spirit of God calling to him one day at church. It had been the only thing he had ever wanted to be. It had felt right. It still does. Sometimes there are just, setbacks.

Jinyoung.

Jaebum doesn’t quite recall when their dynamic had evolved - maybe before Jaebum had taken his vows - but he knows the shift in their relationship created a deep inner conflict within himself. 

For one thing, homosexuality was strictly forbidden. Jaebum had been educated on men who laid with men, and how they would burn in the deepest parts of hell for their sins. But all throughout his teenage years, he didn’t see homosexuality the same way everyone else in the church did. He even questioned his father’s teachings once, why God would forbid men to lay with men if he said he loves all of his children just the same. But it had earned him a swift beating with a belt as a penance for his sin and an extra bible study lesson each Friday after school.

Jaebum strictly believes that God created all of his children equal in his own image and that no one will burn in hell unless they commit acts atrocious enough to be deemed so - such as rape and murder. He’s friends with too many people who have same-sex tenancies to be a hypocrite anyway, as well as himself, as he’s always been faced with his own questions surrounding what it means to be attracted to women and what it means to be attracted to men.

Then there’s the fact that even if he has found attraction to men - one in particular - there’s nothing that can be done about it. It’s Jaebum’s duty, as a priest, to cast out anything that could lead him astray from his duties with the Catholic church. When he took his vows for his position with the church, he took an oath to give himself to God so that no one else may have him. If he remains unattached and single as long as he remains in the clergy, he gives his life to the church and to God faithfully and without distraction.

All his wants, all his desires - are shielded from him whether he likes it or not. And he goes with it because he has to; he took an oath. The only problem is that what he wants stands a few feet in the other room and he can’t do anything about it. And Jinyoung knows this. Jinyoung knows he knows this. And yet he still sees it in Jinyoung’s face when Jaebum can’t touch him like he wants, or hold him when things get rough, or spend the night together because he just can.

So perhaps that’s why Jaebum is considering taking a position with the Vatican. For starters, it’s  _ The  _ Vatican. But also because Jinyoung deserves better than  _ this. _

Jinyoung deserves to find someone he can actually be with. Not just someone he can work with and see occasionally at church, but someone he can feel and love unapologetically. Someone who didn’t let his father die.

A knock on the door frame causes a red cotton shirt to slip between Jaebum’s fingers and onto the top of the washer.

“Oh, sorry Father.” Yugyeom pops his head in casually, still smiling at the shenanigans behind them. “You really don’t have to do that.” He refers to the pile of clean clothes Jaebum’s already got sorted out by child.

Jaebum smiles, carrying on with a small pair of jeans that he folds by two. “I don’t mind, I like helping out. Besides, it’s a nice distraction.”

“Well thank you.” Yugyeom’s eyes wander, and Jaebum can’t help but feel the weight of his stare on his scar. “The kids seem to feel more comfortable with you all here. They’ve taken to you guys faster than I’ve seen them with anyone else.”

Another animated noise spills from Jackson’s mouth as he gets the kids immersed in another possibly overembelished story of his, stealing Yugyeom’s attention for a brief moment. Jaebum on the other hand looks straight past Jackson, right to where Jinyoung settles a hot plate of pancakes over the table delicately.

Jaebum is fond of the flour coating the surface of Jinyoung’s black shirt and arms, and can’t help but stare at the way his apron is pulled tightly across the curve of his waist, accentuating the draw of his hips. And then when Jaebum rakes his eyes up towards his face, he gets stuck on the arched corner of Jinyoung’s full lips as he smiles charmingly.

“Man, he’s some guy.” Yugyeom chuckles after tearing his eyes away from Jackson.

“Yeah…” Jinyoung laughs out loud, causing Jaebum to lose his train of thought. “He’s some guy.”

Yugyeom glances in the direction of Jaebum’s eye line before throwing him a curious look, knocking Jaebum back into his senses. Jaebum digs threw the laundry basket and tries to pretend he  _ wasn’t _ just doing what he promised he wouldn’t do.

“So…” Yugyeom moves further into the laundry room, away from prying ears as he lowers his voice. “I thought priests weren’t allowed to be in relationship.”

Jaebum nearly drops the pair of socks he balls together. “We’re not. We give ourselves to God. W-why do you ask?” He doesn’t know why he even asks. He absolutely doesn’t want to hear Yugyeom’s answer.

“I don’t know,” Yugyeom shrugs. “I just thought - it just seemed like you and Jinyoung-ssi were  _ together. _ ”

The words rattle over and over again in Jaebum’s head.  _ It just seemed like you and Jinyoung-ssi were together. _ His heart jackhammers in his chest.

“No, we - We’re not together,” Jaebum breathes out. “We’ve just been friends for a very long time. We’re like family.”

Immediately, Yugyeom pales. “I’m sorry Father, I didn’t mean to pry into your personal life like that!” Jaebum tries to tell him it’s okay with his hand, but Yugyeom continues, “You guys just have this energy, it felt like there was more to it. I’m sorry I’m rambling, it’s none of my business.”

Jaebum just smiles, pats him on the back. “It’s fine Yugyeom-ssi. We have chemistry. If we didn’t, I don’t think we would have worked together for this long.” He turns back to his work separating the last of the socks to find their mates. 

“So does Jinyoung-ssi ever plan on getting married?”

Jaebum’s hands still. He’s lucky he’s facing away from Yugyeom, otherwise Yugyeom would see the agony arise in him as Jaebum closes his eyes and tries not to tremble. “You’d have to ask him that.”

Yugyeom opens his mouth to say something else, but suddenly a small body is peeking into the doorway.

“Yugyeomie hyung!” Calls from Jaein, dressed in a pink skirt and pigtails wrapped in pink rubber bands. “I made you a plate!”

“Oh did you now?” Yugyeom scoops the child into his arms, patting Jaebum on the back before venturing back out into the kitchen.

The murmurs of the crowd taper off as Jaebum works in silence to match the last pairs of socks he has left. He’s hoping the activity will give his mind something other to do than think about the pained and dark memory from long ago that Yugyeom helped unearth by accident. But while it’s silent in the laundry room, his mind is doing nothing but suffering at the ache that still haunts his bones.

It was five years ago.

Five and a half, to be correct.

It had been raining.

It was the night before Jinyoung’s rehearsal dinner.

Jaebum hadn’t known what got into him at the time, but he was hurting, and out of his mind. He had been drinking wine with Jackson and BamBam at the hotel Jisoo’s family had paid for - a little too much too quickly by accident - and somehow he’d ended up at Jinyoung’s room with intention in his voice.

_ “Don’t get married.” _

_ “Excuse me?” _

_ “I don’t want you to get married.” _

_ “Why are you telling me this now?” _

_ “Because I think I’m drunk.” _

Jinyoung hadn’t known what to say or what to do, he only led Jaebum into the room and prayed the situation would resolve itself before Jisoo got back.

_ “Hyung, I’m getting married next week. Why all of a sudden did you decide to tell me not to?” _

_ “Because I want things, Jinyoung-ah. And I know I can’t have what I want, but…” _

_ “So even though you know you can’t have me, you’d rather I be alone than be with anyone else? That’s so selfish, hyung.” _

Jinyoung had been right. Jaebum was selfish. He did want Jinyoung, and he didn’t want anyone else to have him. But Jaebum had realized then that Jinyoung needed someone that could give him everything.

_ “I’m selfish, you’re right. I take what I said back. You don’t deserve someone like me, I can’t give you anything. You deserve Jisoo, she can give you everything-” _

But Jinyoung was no longer listening. He hadn’t been for some time, Jaebum had come to learn. Jinyoung had bent over to where Jaebum slouched drunkenly on the bed and shut him up with a kiss that spoke more than words ever could.

_ “Stop, we can’t do this.” _

Because even less-than-sober Jaebum knew what he was doing went against the things he’d promised to the church. 

_ “Hyung, it’s okay.” _

_ “No it’s not, I’ve just broken my vows to the church.” _

At that point Jaebum had fallen to his knees and Jinyoung along with him, clinging to the shirt of the man across from him while tears poured from his eyes. Jinyoung had known how important his faith was as he tried desperately to comfort him.

_ “You did not break your vows. We’re not in a relationship, hyung.” _

_ “But I kissed you.” _

_ “Technically, I kissed you. The church says nothing about kissing people.” _

_ “It’s an unwritten rule.” _

_ “Look, Jaebum hyung, you are a great priest. Kissing someone will not make you look bad in God’s eyes. Many other priests have done way worse than that, and you know it. You’re beating yourself up too hard about it.” _

By that time, Jaebum’s tears had stopped and Jinyoung had tugged him up so they could look at each other face to face.

_ “What if they find out-” _

_ “No one’s going to find out, okay? It stays between you and me.” _

Jinyoung didn’t get married the following week.

Jaebum never stops blaming himself for that either.

* * *

When Jaebum is done with the laundry, he gets his own plate and sits at the end of the table by himself after everyone has finished eating. He knows everyone has busy schedules for the day - the kids with soccer and dance practice, and BamBam and Jackson are going to be developing the prints from last night in hopes of garnering some physical proof.

Jaebum quietly shoves his breakfast into his mouth, but the silence is interrupted when Jinyoung reenters the kitchen to finish cleaning up. Trying not to focus on him but failing, Jaebum listens to the tune Jinyoung hums to himself as he rinses the plates off.

Then a string of footsteps and, 

“Bye!”

“Be safe!”

“Call if you need anything!”,

Come through as Mark, Yugyeom and the kids rush out of the house and divide into their separate cars for the day. Jinyoung towels his hands dry and reaches for his cup of coffee, hovering at the window. He leans his arm against it and smiles as he watches the kids giggle with each other as Mark and Yugyeom happily get them all situated.

Jaebum approaches the opposite side, Jinyoung noticing in his peripherals. He doesn’t say anything, but Jaebum takes note of what he gazes at soulfully. He knows Jinyoung’s always been fond of kids, it’s why he does what he does. Ever since he was barely of legal age Jinyoung talked about having kids, about the kind of father he would be someday after all of this was over.

Jinyoung promised himself that his kids would not be brought up the way he was, and they would know nothing of demon hunting until they were old enough to make their own decisions.

Jaebum looks back at Jinyoung, who dazily watches the cars drive off. “You could have that, you know.”

“What?”

“The life. The kids. The white picket fence,” Jaebum continues on, aware of Jinyoung’s confused glare on him. “You could get out of this life and settle down. I know you want kids, Jinyoung-ah.”

Jinyoung hums into his coffee cup. “I’m not ready for that yet. Plus I can barely take care of other people’s kids. How am I supposed to care for a kid by myself?”

While Jaebum knows the answer is obvious, he fears what the answer will bring if he says it out loud. He does anyway.

“You’ll get married.”

Jinyoung pauses. He stares hard into the black abyss of his mug, voice straining. “Didn’t work out so well the first time.”

Ignoring the obvious swell of tension in the room, Jaebum clears his throat and backs away from the window, eyes still on Jinyoung. “I just want you to be happy, Jinyoung-ah.”

Jaebum holds his breath, waiting for Jinyoung to react. Instead like clock work, bustling footsteps enter the kitchen, breaking the rhythm and cutting the suffocating tension with a knife. Jackson’s got his backpack slung over his shoulder with BamBam hot on his heels, Youngjae following close behind.

Jackson stops like he’s just seen them naked. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did I just walk in on a moment?”

Jinyoung merely sighs as he steps over to the sink to pour out his coffee. “No, we were only talking. Are you about to leave?”

“Yeah, we were just waiting on Prince Bam to finish getting ready.”

“Hey! If you want to look like shit that’s your prerogative, hyung.”

“Alright, alright, enough.” Jinyoung waves them of. “I’m gonna go to. I want to do some digging around town to see what some of the locals know or have heard about this place.”

“What about us?” Jaebum calls, looking back to Youngjae.

“You two will watch the house. I doubt the spirits will so anything with two men of God alone in their presence.” 

Youngjae looks between the two and nods. Jaebum doesn’t quite like being here without Jinyoung or the rest of the team, and he feels slightly like Jinyoung getting out has something to do with getting away from him.

Once BamBam and Jackson leaves towards the truck and Jinyoung gathers his things, he stops by the door and turns back to the kitchen. “Hyung, we both know what makes me happy. And we both know it’s never going to happen.”

A soft click sets the door in it’s place, and Jaebum sighs defeatedly into his seat.

* * *

Jinyoung stands at the corner of Main and 1st Street on the Salem town square waiting patiently for BamBam and Jackson to finish developing their pictures. He can see the shop they’re at clearly from where he’s leaning against the truck; the square is like any other small town mom and pop scene, wrapping around a luxurious courthouse that stands directly in the center of it all. Jinyoung eyes the imaging store after looking away from the dismal notes he’s managed to take - either people around here don’t know anything about the old rehab/foster home, or they’re too intimidated by outsiders.

Whichever the case, Jinyoung has only ran around in circles, back to the information they’ve already managed to gather so far. But he knows there’s something else they’re missing.

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. On any other case like this, Jaebum would be right next to him as they trifled for new information. Jaebum brings his own ideas and sometimes sees things Jinyoug misses. 

But he had to get away from Jaebum, if only for a little while. The mention of marriage and kids… It was too much for Jinyoung to handle today. Hell, it was too much for him to handle for a lifetime. He knew he couldn’t have what he truly wanted, and so did Jaebum, so he doesn’t even know why the older brought it up in the first place.

A glint from the opposite side of the square flashes in his peripherals, and when Jinyoung searches out the light, his eyes land on a small store of unknown origin nestled tightly between the general store and a pawn shop. The lights are so dim inside it’s no wonder he didn’t see it before.

Something beckons him closer, and as he treads lightly across the sidewalk, Jinyoung notices the black letters painted across the door window.

_ Salem Library of the Occult and Witchcraft. _

He wonders...

“You’re not from around here, are you?”

Jinyoung stumbles back so hard that he nearly trips over his own feet. Once he rights himself, he takes in the slightly hunched over figure of an older gentleman, most likely in his early to mid eighties, hair ash grey and circular glasses two sizes too big framing his face.

“No, I’m actually from Boston.” Jinyoung says after his heart regains it’s proper rhythm.

“Wow,” the gentleman remarks with his eyebrows raised. He then steps towards the door with a key, unlocks it, and rattles it open. “What brings you to our neck of the woods?”

Jinyoung is cautious, following the old man inside the - well obviously  _ his _ shop. Everything inside is like something out of a movie; scarlet cloths lining the walls, candlesticks with black holders on every countertop, bookshelves filled with vintage hardcovers, and crystals of every different color decorate the brown wood furnishings. 

It’s definitely not a shop for real witchcraft, no, those don’t actually exist. This one is likely for teens looking for something to pass the time, a quick interest they will likely lose interest in come winter vacation. 

Jinyoung never wants to give too much away when he’s on a case. He keeps things simple. “Just here for some haunted house.”

Behind the counter, the old man drops his catalog on the glass countertop and looks up with a lopsided grin. “The old Massachusetts home for wounded soldiers?”

“Yeah, how’d you know?

“Lucky guess.” The man chuckles, like he knows something Jinyoung doesn’t. “It’s part of old town folklore.”

Jinyoung’s intrigued. So far, not many people have known what he was talking about. And those that did were hesitant to talk about it. But Jinyoung gets a different vibe from this guy, though he can’t place what it is yet.

“Well then, what do you know about it?”

“Oh I know everything about it,” the old man admits proudly. He then extends his hand over the counter, “James Paul, town historian and grandson of Henry Paul, Civil War veteran and former resident of the Massachusetts Rehabilitation Home.”

Jinyoung’s smiles reaches the tips of his ears. He’s hit the jackpot.

“Park Jinyoung, paranormal investigator,” he takes James’s hand and shakes eagerly. “What can you tell me about nurse Bellerive?”

“Well first off she wasn’t a nurse.” James pauses, serious in tone. “She was a witch. My grandfather said she never let anyone in her room and was always doing mysterious things in there.”

“And what about what she was doing to the soldiers?”

“Grandfather told me that in the middle of the night, she would take the unlucky ones down into the basement and experiment on them with her witchcraft. Cut them up into tiny pieces for her potions, feed em to the dogs, grind them into meat, stuff like that.”

Jinyoung nods, perplexed.“But if he knew what was going on, why didn’t he tell anybody?”

“He tried.” James pushes the glasses back to the top of his nose. “But you see, grandfather had lost a leg during the war, and it uh - messed him up a little bit. They didn’t know what PTSD was back then, but I’m sure he had it. He told the other nurses about what he saw, but no one believed him.”

Jinyoung listens on intensely, prompting the man to continue.

“So one night, grandfather snuck out of his room and went down to the basement. He said there was blood stains, bloody tools, and a big furnace, almost the size of one you’d see in a crematorium. He said he looked in and found a leg bone. A  _ human  _ leg bone.”

“And that’s when they arrested her, right?”

“No, no. They didn’t arrest her. They punished her like they did all the other witches.” Behind the counter, James points to a framed drawing done in pencil of a woman engulfed in flames. “They burned her at the stake.”

Red hot fire lights the pit of Jinyoung’s stomach as it plummets. 

“Well technically it was a tree,” James shrugs. “The one in front of the house.”

Jinyoung almost chokes on his spit. “They burned her to death on the tree in front of the home?”

As Jinyoung thinks about it, he recalls the dark feeling he had first gotten when they had pulled up to the property yesterday. How the dark oak tree had framed the house like a hallucination wrapped in a nightmare. He had sensed the malevolent force surrounding the area, but never did he guess a witch was burned there - something right out of the Salem witchcraft trials. Only it’s about two hundred years too late. How the entire thing wasn’t engulfed in flames is beyond him.

“Yep.” James confirms. “And right before they did that, she placed a curse that would allow her to come back to life.”

“What curse?”

The old man rounds the corner towards the back bookshelves, scouring through the tattered brown and green covers. He seems to find what he’s looking for when he mumbles, “aha!” to himself and pulls out a dusty hardcover that looks to be nearly one hundred years old.

James places the book on the counter and flips to a page titled  _ The Dark Witch _ \- it shows an illustration of a woman with wild hair tied to the same exact tree that sits in Mark and Yugyeom’s front yard.

“Apparently, she wore an amulet that was given to her by her father.” The old man points to the gemstone necklace nestled snugly around the witch’s neck. “Grandfather was there the day she died. She placed a curse on her amulet so it would harness her life force in case she were to die. It would allow her spirit to reclaim the amulet so she could be brought back to life.”

Gazing at the image of the  _ dark witch _ , Jinyoung hums to himself. “So where is the amulet now?”

“Local police took it, but after that it’s a mystery.” James shrugs. “But folklore says the dark witch’s amulet will forever lie within the heart of Christ.”

Jinyoung glances back at the man. “But what does that mean?”

“No one knows.”

In the corner of his eye, Jinyoung catches sight of BamBam and Jackson back at the truck peering around the square for him.

“I have to go, how much…?”

“Keep it.” James shakes his hands, sliding the book into Jinyoung’s arms. 

Jinyoung thanks the man generously. Now he just has to figure out what the folklore means by the  _ heart of Christ.  _ There’s only a few more pieces left of the puzzle to place together.

* * *

“Hyung, do you want to talk about it?” Is the first thing out of Youngjae’s mouth as soon as the trio pulls away from the house.

Jaebum in fact, does  _ not _ want to air out his personal life to anyone else, even though Youngjae has probably known for some time about the inner workings of his and Jinyoung’s relationship. He’s likely been told by Jackson or BamBam who’ve been around more often to witness things, but what Jaebum loves about Youngjae is that he never prys despite the questions that likely sit on his tongue.

Jaebum rubs his tired eyes with the heels of his palms. “Not really.” He busies himself by clearing the rest of the table in hopes of distracting him away from the thoughts that plague his mind. If he were such a good priest, he would be able to move past this obstacle in his life easily.  _ No attachments. _

“You know,” Youngjae brushes past his shoulder, placing the syrup back in the fridge. “Maybe the reason you’re unable to let this go is because God doesn’t want you to.”

Youngjae’s assessment hits far too close for Jaebum to reconcile with right now. So he ignores it completely. “I think we should say a morning prayer.”

Farbeit to complain, Youngjae goes along with it, sighing defeatedly as he trails behind Jaebum into the living room. 

The pair have done this many times before, not so much in a haunted house, but as Youngjae’s mentor, it’s been Jaebum’s duty to provide Youngjae with strict knowledge on priesthood and the inner workings of the heavenly sanctum.

Knees planted on the rug in the middle of the room, rosary beads in one hand, and a Bible in the other, Jaebum and Youngjae close their eyes and clear their minds, thinking nothing but thoughts of their heavenly father and the divine energy he brings.

“Come holy spirit, fill thee hearts of thy faithful and enkindle in them the fire of thy love.” Jaebum begins, speaking with command in his voice. “Send forth thy spirit and they shall be created. And thou shalt renew the face of the earth. We pray to you heavenly Father, our God in heaven and below-”

_ Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. _

Jaebum stops mid prayer. He glances at Youngjae. “What was that?”

The sound tapers off, not repeating. But it had sounded like it had come from the halway, almost like heavy feet were coming down the stairs. Jaebum is just about to carry on with the morning prayer when another thumping sound startles the two of them, and their attention is drawn back to the foyer.

This time, something truly remarkable happens. It’s not rare for them to see apparitions on cases like these, but to see  _ full _ body apparitions? Jaebum thinks he might be stuck in a fever dream.

The spirit - or man, for that matter - is definitely one of the Civil War soldiers that had gone missing from the home. From his nineteenth century garb to his hairstyle to his bandages that must cover old wounds, Jaebum is sure this must be someone who went through a lot of pain here. The man would look almost entirely human, if not for the black holes for eyes and flesh that looks like it’s rotting away.

Jaebum motions to Youngjae (who’s frozen to the ground holding his breath in shock) to stay still in order not to scare the spirit off. But the apparition turns his head eerily and takes one look at them stationed on the floor, smiles like something straight out of a horror movie, and goes running down the hall.

Jaebum jumps to his feet in pursuit. “Stay here and finish the prayer!”

He leaves Youngjae one his own and hears the younger start rapidly belting out the prayer like his life depends on it while he rounds the corner hot on the tail of the soldier. The spirit is quick, but not quick enough as Jaebum catches a flash of him barreling right through the door that leads to the basement.

Not having time to think it through, Jaebum grabs one of the flashlights and follows the apparition by himself. He knows he shouldn’t - he should wait for Jinyoung to get back and they can do this together. But this is happening now, and if Jaebum wastes precious time, he could lose the spirit forever.

He knows it’s reckless, but he’ll be fine.

It’s freezing cold as he enters the lower part of the house, his flashlight doing it’s job to illuminate the darkest parts of the basement for him. He finds no trace of the soldier in sight.

“Hello?” He calls out. “Sir, I can help you.”

The flashlight catches on a broken pink lamp settled on top of a dusty piano. Without warning, the lamp goes flying into the opposite wall, smashing into a dozen pieces.

The flashlight begins flickering on and off.

On and off.

On.

Off.

Jaebum doesn’t have a good feeling about this.

The hair on the back of his neck begin to stand up.

“ _ She’s making me do it _ .” A young male voice whispers in his ear.

Jaebum nearly jumps out of his skin, spinning to meet the person that holds that voice. His flashlight comes back on and it catches on nothing. Then suddenly,

“SHE’S HERE.”

Jaebum muffles a scream with his hand when he turns back around and comes face to face with the soldier, the black gaping holes of his eyes bearing down into Jaebum’s own. Jaebum’s so caught off guard that he trips over his own feet and falls directly on his ass, dropping his flashlight.

He rushes to get it back in his hand, pointing back to where the soldier’s back is to him as he’s running away, to the far corner of the basement. Jaebum watches earnestly as the soldier knocks over a few cobweb covered items along the way before disappearing completely through the boarded up area they had yet to uncover previously.

Righting himself, Jaebum follows the soldier’s path towards the two by fours, placing his hands against the wood. There’s gotta be something beyond it that they’ve missed. And what did he mean by ‘ _ She’s here?’ _ Was he referring to nurse Bellerive who had possibly murdered him? These were all things Jaebum had to discuss with Jinyoung when he got back.

Jaebum moves his foot, catching it on something soft. Under the light, he finds an old tattered bandage that wasn’t there before. With dried blood stains and stitching not even from this century, Jaebum deduces it must not have made it through with the soldier.

Careful not to unravel it’s threads, Jaebum wraps the bandage delicately and makes his way back to Youngjae who’s still praying over the house.

***

As soon as Jinyoung, Jackson, and BamBam arrive back a while later, a flurry of information is exchanged from both sides that has the kitchen breathing to life with ramblings of dark entities, witches, and soldiers.

It’s hard enough to get a word in edgewise with all the new pieces gathered from each person, so they decide to go in a circle and work their way around, starting with Jinyoung.

“So I found this occult shop on the square while Jackson and BamBam were developing the photos,” he starts. “The owner, James Paul, claimed his grandfather was one of the soldiers who used to live in the rehab home, and saw what nurse Bellerive did to the men. Only he claims he was a witch.”

From his bag, Jinyoung takes out the aged hardcover book and removes the image he’d printed. “We searched him up in the local database just to be sure.” He points to the black and white picture of an almost exact clone of the man from the store standing on the porch steps of the home. “Henry Paul was there from March to July 1864 right before it was shut down.”

“James informed me that his grandfather told him about everything. How Bellerive took men down to the basement to practice witchcraft on them. Henry Paul found blood, body parts, and bones down there in the furnace.”

“The furnace?” Jaebum questions, replaying the soldier’s spirit he watched disappear through the closed off area of the basement.

Jinyoung nods. “Apparently there used to be a large furnace which they also used as a cremation chamber for soldiers who had no families. But something tells me Bellerive used it on the men she tortured as well, I hear dozens of voices crying out in pain anytime I’m near the basement.”

It’s then that Jaebum remembers, looking at Jinyoung’s face as it appears to break in two, that even though he’s been blessed by the Lord with such a gift, there are other terrible downsides to it that have kept him awake in the long grueling hours of the night. Jaebum forgets sometimes that Jinyoung can often times feel the pain of spirits that have passed, and he’s nearly always the first one to figure out how they died because he gets a glimpse of it first hand.

It’s a long, hard road that Jinyoung continues to follow. But he’s found a strength not even Jaebum can amass.

He continues, setting the worn novel down across the table and gently flipping to his desired page. “This town legend details the story of the  _ Dark Witch _ , a nurse named Belle who had practiced false medicine on soldiers who later turned up missing. She was found guilty of murdering over two dozen men and burned at the stake on this very property, on that very tree outside.” Jinyoung flips the page, showing the illustration of the woman tied to the oak. Her amulet glows under the curse she placed. “Legend says before she was killed she placed a spell on her amulet that tied her life force to it. After she died if her spirit found her amulet the spell allows for her to come back to life, supposedly.”

Jaebum ponders hard on the revelation. Has this all been about jewelry and necklaces? But then where do the other spirits fit in? Or are they just all a completely different case to begin with? He thinks back to Jackson’s frustration last night and BamBam’s this morning…

“Jackson!” He calls. “You lost your diamond Wang necklace last night, right?”

The man pouts. “Yeah, and that thing cost me a couple grand.”

“Okay whatever,” Jaebum hushes him. “And BamBam, you couldn’t find your earrings this morning, yeah?” BamBam nods. “And Mark and Yugyeom mentioned something about their necklaces turning up missing too, right?”

BamBam shrugs. “What does that have to do with anything?”

Jaebum glances at Jinyoung, praying he’s caught on. By the look of revelation in his eyes and the corner of his mouth curving into a smile, Jaebum knows they’re on the same page. They always are.

“Because, Bam.” Jinyoung grins. “She’s searching for her lost amulet.”

“But I don’t have it!” The youngest retorts.

“She doesn’t know that, Einstein.” Comes from an annoyed Youngjae, who smacks BamBam across the arm.

But that begs the question.

“So where is it then?”

Jinyoung turns back to Jaebum, points to the page. “Police took it and the trail ends there. All it says in the book is ‘ _ To preserve the witch’s life force and to prevent her from administering no further evil, the amulet shall lay within the heart of Christ forevermore. _ ’.”

Of course things could never be simple in their line of work. It can never be, ‘This is the thing! It does this! You’ll find it here!’. Nope, there’s always some sort of clue they have to follow or riddle they have to solve. At least this time with the mention of the holy figure of Christ, it sounds right up their alley.

“Do we have any leads on that?”

Jinyoung shakes his head. “I was hoping you and Jackson could start on that. Maybe after we touch base here you guys could get in touch with the local police department and see what they know about the amulet, and if they have any idea what the  _ heart of Christ  _ could mean.”

“Aye aye Cap'n!” Salutes Jackson at the same time Jaebum nods in agreement. “Now onto the good stuff,” he continues, dumping a manilla folder onto the table and letting a handful of photographs slide onto the surface. “Here ladies and gentlemen, are the images we captured as everything went into chaos last night.”

In order of how they were taken, the progression of images starts from the bottom of the stairs as Jungkook dashes by the camera. In a flurry of grey and blue colors a silhouetted shadow appears around him, one most definitely not of his own. Upon closer viewing, there’s a distinct head, neck and shoulders, and a body that seems to drown off into nothing. The next picture is the same - Jungkook at the top of the staircase with the apparition on his back.

“That’s freaky, bro.” BamBam comments.

Jinyoung studies the picture hard. “It’s like it’s following him,” he notes. “It must be the spirit of Taehyung.”

The next series of images come from when the dark force had separated the group and locked Jinyoung, Mark, and Jungkook in the room. 

To be honest, the sight is terrifying. From one image to the next it’s not hard to see why Jungkook and Mark were so scared to sleep alone that night. While the camera went off rapidly in just a few minutes, it captured dozens of pictures that make jaebum’s heart sink.

In the first few shots, the three of them are at the door trying to open it. Across the room sits the same figure that was seen following Jungkook up the staircase. It’s the next series of photos that sends their stomachs to mush.

While the trio are still stuck trying to open the door, the image of Taehyung’s figure is slowly joined frame by frame by a tall black entity with long hair that remains watching them like a hawk. The last image taken of them before the camera shut off shows Taehyung’s spirit dissipating in the background as the black entity draws closer to the boys.

They all know what comes after that, so they don’t need any further images to put any more of the story together. They just have to figure out what the dark entity is and if it has any correlation with the spirit of the witch.

“There’s so many things to process here, how are we ever going to put it all together?” Youngjae questions curiously.

The truth is, Jinyoung’s their secret weapon. When it all comes down to the wire, Jinyoung’s abilities will help him see what the rest cannot. He’ll be able to piece everything together coherently to understand the history of the home and to better equip them with how to deal with the haunting.

“Oh, there’s one more thing we found,” BamBam remembers, reaching into his satchel. In his hand is a rusty circular tin. “When the guy at the shop realized what our pictures were of, we got to talking about the investigation. He gave us this,” the youngest uncaps the lid off the tin, revealing a spun reel of brown film. “He said it might be useful to us.”

The group share similar looks of curiosity, gazing down at the reel of film. 

“Did he say what was on it?’ Jaebum asks. 

BamBam shakes his head.

“Well then!” Jackson exclaims, slapping his palm against the table. “Let’s get this thing rolling!”

The only other thing BamBam makes sure to bring in addition to his recording devices is his favorite 8mm film projector that he got for his birthday one year from his mother. He sets it up on the edge of the kitchen table aimed towards the living room while Jackson and Jinyoung get the white projector screen ready in the living room. 

Once everyone has taken a seat, BamBam pops the reel into the slot and winds it through the gears. The projection light switches on and the reel begins spinning - first casting the room into complete darkness before fading to the black and white scenery of the film.

When the picture finally breathes to life, it takes a moment for the group to process what they’re looking at. But from the mountain of stuff still collecting dust from way back when, the dimness of the lower ground and the steps that lead to another flour, it doesn’t take Jaebum but seconds to figure out this is the basement of the home.

Only, this is years before - 1941 - as it was written across the film’s container.

A middle aged woman walks into frame next, with her white nightgown that drags along the floor and pins that tie up her black hair. They immediately register her as Kwon Boa, the foster mother who had purchased the house previously. She turns to the camera and motions at something behind it, and before they know it it’s moving along with her, indicating there is a second person there.

Suddenly their heads turn towards the stairs, where an older man holding a bible greats Boa with a kiss to her cheek. Behind him follows a second man, tall and dressed in all black, carrying a limp child in his arms bridal style.

Boa is all sorts of pained as the man sits the boy down in a chair and ties him to it by his arms and legs. The boy barely regains consciousness as the seconds go by, and the camera pans to where the three talk amongst themselves before the man holding the Bible opens it to a page in the middle.

He raises his hand and begins shouting.

They can’t do much for the lack of sound, but once the camera pans back over to the boy to see him squirming and resisting his restraints like he has the strength of a thirty year old man, it’s not hard to guess what’s happening.

“They’re performing an exorcism on him.” 

The entire table tear their eyes away to focus on Jaebum. 

Jaebum follows along helplessly as the people in the video shout over and over at the child, dousing him with what can only be holy water, only to watch the poor boy’s body writhe in pain from the possession tearing apart his body.

“Which kid is that?” Jinyoung asks, snapping his fingers. “1941, which kid?”

Youngjae’s already got the binder out with the article clippings. “I’m pretty sure that’s Lee Seokmin. They found his body by the road but it doesn’t mention anything about a possession or exorcism.”

“Of course it wouldn’t.” Jaebum states. “The only question is how did he get possessed and how did his body get dumped all the way out there?”

Jaebum turns back to the video, dread filling inside his gut when the spirit possessing Seokmin screams violently and begins levitating the chair off the ground a few inches. The two men grab a white sheet and place it over his head to hold him down while Boa sobs into her hands in the background.

Jaebum watches the man with the Bible shout over and over again at the boy - most likely prayers which he can’t figure out without sound - trying to distinguish exactly who he could be. He’s not from the church, and he doesn’t appear to be any type of person ordained to be doing such practices. If this was a man who wasn’t well skilled in the art of exorcism or didn’t belong to a church, then he would be putting the child and everyone else in the room in grave, grave danger.

It appears this was evidently so, as the finale of the exorcism draws to a climactic halt when both men are sent flying to the other side of the room and the chair rises with Seokmin in it like gravity does not exist, only to drop him to the floor in a crash of wooden limbs.

The entire kitchen looks on with faces of horror as the three rush to the child’s side, removing the sheet and tossing it to the ground. The camera stops moving then, it seems to be set down to the side - conveniently obscuring some of the view of the boy’s body with the piano.

But they can only imagine what awaits when Boa begins choking even harder on her sobs, hands covering her mouth to cover her cries. A fourth man appears - presumably the cameraman - leaning over the body.

A heavy feeling of sorrow washes over the room.

“This is what you get when you hire an amateur,” Jinyoung scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief. “A botched exorcism and a dead kid.”

The child shouldn’t have had to die. It’s unfortunate, but it’s no one’s fault. This was over forty years ago, before any thing like this had truly been studied. Miss Boa was likely terrified out of her mind and didn’t know where else to go. She just wanted to save one of her kids; she had no idea this is how it would end.

“So what, did they just dump the body and pretend like nothing happened?” Jackson sneers.

BamBam points to the screen. “No wait, look.”

The camera starts to shift, slightly at first, then more jarringly as the seconds pass. Everyone is present and accounted for in the frame, even the cameraman, so it means something else is causing it to stir.

Out of nowhere the camera falls to the floor, the frame landing on the opposite side of the basement. Someone - the  _ cameraman  _ it appears to be when the frame pans back up - grabs the camera and checks it for any breaks.

Something must grab his attention by the way his eyes widen and his lips part, nearly allowing for him to drop the camera. When he pans over to what startled him, the camera captures Boa and the two men, but the child in the middle they had assumed dead, Seokmin, is gone.

The reel runs out quickly after that, leaving the team with more questions than answers. Jinyoung is the first to speak.

“So they failed at exorcising the demon, and it took the child’s body.”

“But it likely left the boy’s body because it couldn’t use his life force anymore.” Jaebum adds as BamBam hits the lights. “An attack like that, it would wound a demon deeply.”

“So where’d it go?”

“A wounded demon would need to regain it’s strength and energy for a period of time until…” Jaebum trails off, thinking back to the missing kid case from ‘63. Something strange about vanishing boys stands out to him, until it clicks. “Until it was ready to feed again.” 

“Quick, Kim Taehyung in 1963.” he gestures to Youngjae, who scrambles for the articles. All the while he can feel Jinyoung’s eyes on him, wondering where his thoughts are going. “Only a few years younger than Seokmin, but both young boys were either found dead or went missing from the house. If Seokmin was possessed by a demonic presence here but was wounded during the exorcism, it would have basically went into hibernation until it was strong enough to find another body to control.”

Jinyoung crosses his arms, visibly impressed. “You think whatever possessed Lee Seokmin went into hibernation for twenty one years to regain it’s strength and then possessed Kim Taehyung?” 

Nodding, Jaebum adds that they never found Taehyung’s body, but his spirit remains here in the house. That means if his theory is correct, Taehyung was killed by the demon as well.

Now all that remained were the why, how, and who.

Then Jaebum remembers what had happened after everyone had left. He and Youngjae give a brief rundown of the soldier that had come by and how startling he had looked at them before darting downstairs to the basement.

He catches them up on how the soldier’s spirit led Jaebum down there and began screaming about a woman, someone he sounded completely scared of. Jaebum takes the team down and shows them where the spirit had run straight through the wood of the sectioned off zone and left behind the raggedy bandages that could only be the true sign of a haunting.

“Well according to James Paul,” Jinyoung hums as he slides his palm along the wooden boards that divide the basement, “Behind here is the furnace they used to use as a cremation chamber.”

“How come it’s not on any of the house maps?” BamBam lifts his folded property schematics into the light.

Jinyoung grabs a crowbar from Jackson’s toolkit and digs the sharp end into the space between the pieces. “It was likely dismantled after the rehab center was closed down,” he grunts, stepping back as a board clatters against the floor. “I didn’t see anything extend through the roof, so they must have closed it off and erased it from the home’s history.”

With Jackson and BamBam’s help, they get the rest of the wooden boards off the wall, revealing an extended space covered in dust, dirt, and cobwebs from over a hundred years. And right where James Paul said it would be stands a grand furnace that extends from one end of the wall to the other and nearly reaches the ceiling. 

The furnace is larger than anything they’ve ever seen before, covered top to bottom in a fine layer of dust and webbing, rusted levers and knobs, and a square chamber dead center that’s wider than a large TV and long enough to hold a body. It remains sealed by a white door.

Jinyoung doesn’t hesitate to open it.

Jaebum is by his side when he does, peering into the chamber where it comes up to their chests. “Are those... ?” He reaches in despite the unfinished question, removing a handful of small and oxidized hand-held tools. He holds them out for all to see - scissors, a scalpel, clamps, and an anesthetic mask.

“Ew, hyung put those down before you get typhoid or something!” Shouts BamBam, who doesn't fail to show his air of disgust at the rotten tools.

Jaebum ignores their youngest, peering at Jinyoung instead and falling into their own bubble that the rest of the world doesn’t exist within. “What do you think? You think these could be what she used to practice on them?”

Why else would the soldier have led Jaebum down to the basement if not for them to find the old furnace and discover what atrocities Bellerive did to these men? The spirit guided Jaebum right to it.

“I’ll need to do a reading on it to be sure,” Jinyoung nods. “But we need to see if there’s anything else in there. Bam-ah,” he motions for the youngest. “You’re the skinniest, I need you to crawl in there and see if there’s anything left.”

“Oh hell no, hyung!” BamBam eminently shakes his head. “I’m not getting in there where people died! Make Jackson hyung do it! He’s shorter than all of us and can fit better!”

Jackson immediately scoffs and slaps BamBam on the arm. “What?! How dare you bring my name into this!”

“But you’re a cop! You’ve been in worse!”

“Not in a haunted furnace, BamBam!”

“Fine!” The youngest exclaims, both hands darting out in two separate poses. “Rock paper scissors and the loser has to go in!”

Youngjae rolls his eyes in the corner and laughs at their antics while Jinyoung groans in frustration, nagging at one of them to  _ just do it already _ .

Jaebum doesn’t see an end to this in sight, and decides to pick for them. The soldier chose to reveal to  _ him  _ the location of the furnace and whatever comes with it, so it’s only fair that Jaebum investigates the rest.

He’s got himself lifted into the chamber with a flashlight before the group even notices.

Then someone - he can’t really hear too well enclosed in a box but guesses it’s BamBam by the peak shrill in his voice - yells in the background and soon a commotion erupts behind him.

“Hyung! What are you doing?” Jinyoung nervously projects into the chamber. And then lower, “How did you even get your shoulders in there?”

It’s snug, but Jaebum fits just fine. He’s lucky that he’s well hidden from the others, it stops them from seeing the blush that rises up his neck at the thought of Jinyoung noticing minuscule details about him.

He manages to wiggle his way down the chamber. “You all were wasting time playing games.”

Jackson and BamBam at least have the decency to look partly ashamed. 

“Fine.” Jinyoung sighs, pointing his own light down the tunnel to brighten up the dark crawl space. “What do you see?”

Truth be told, there’s nothing else there. Just some dead beetle carcasses and a lot of dust. “Nothing much, they must have cleared it all out except for the tools but - wait hang on a second.” Jaebum leans his flashlight just a little higher on the wall of the chamber, illuminating the space where the corners meet at the top. Deep and jagged white lines, no longer than a pointer finger, contrast against the black concrete. 

As Jaebum drags the flashlight up even further, more and more are brought into his field of view covering the top of the chamber. He looks down at his hands, and an idea strikes him. It’s a tight squeeze, but he’s able to flip himself over so that he’s lying on his back. He reaches out to feel where even more markings are compressed to the very spot right above his head. Then the realization hits.

“Oh my God.”

“What, what?!” Jinyoung’s lifting his head in neurotically, his brow quirking puzzledly at Jaebum’s current position

“She burned them alive.” His stomach drops at the idea of innocent men, people who fought to restore the divided country, being tortured and then burned to death like this. “There’s scratch marks all over the ceiling in here.” 

Youngjae uses his fingers to make a cross from his forehead to his chest and across his shoulders. “May God have mercy on their souls.”

“Anything else?” Jinyoung asks.

Nothing else pops out at him, so Jaebum figures it’s best if he exits and they can begin the reading on the medical tools. “No. I’m coming out now.”

Wiggling himself back onto his elbows takes a small bit of energy, but once Jaebum does so he reaches for the flashlight and begins crawling backwards out of the chamber. Except - 

_ Crack. _

The thing layer of aged concrete must not have been prepared to hold Jaebum’s weight or take on all the kinetic energy as he wiggled around because as soon as he starts moving again the rock gives out beneath his body, collapsing onto the ground under the chamber.

Jaebum falls with the rock, landing hard on his shoulder in something soft before he finds himself rolling down a dirt-like surface of some kind. His vision is clouded by dust and debris, so he misses much of what is happening, but he doesn’t miss the yelp that exits either his mouth or Jinyoung’s - he really can’t tell at this point.

He rolls until he its something solid, and by that point his body’s been beaten up enough that he has to take a second to catch his breath. He hears the others screaming his name, but it sounds far away, like he somehow fell down a rabbit hole.

As Jaebum lifts his head, wincing in pain, he registers the layer of dirt that he’s fallen into. Okay, that’s one clue into helping to figure out where he is.

“Jaebum hyung!”

“Hyung?! Are you okay?”

“Where are you?!”

When he gets a chance to compose himself and sit up, Jaebum brushes the dirt from his eyes and gazes around the area he’s found himself stuck in. Wooden beams are planted in the ground and are nailed together in the space above his head. Everywhere around him is grass and dirt, and the only light coming through is from the thin holes between the planks of wood that seems to separate him from what looks to be the backyard. He knows exactly where he is.

“I’m fine!” He yells, getting to his knees. “I must have fallen under the house. I’m over by the backyard.”

Jinyoung motions for Jackson and Youngjae to go see if they can help him, and they hastily oblige. “I’m coming down to get you,” he shouts from where he’s now peering down into the hole, rolling up his sleeves and removing his watch to give to BamBam.

“No, Jinyoung, it’s okay!” Jaebum responds back with a cough. “I’m already on my way back up.”

And truthfully, he was. Until something glinted under the crack of sunlight and caught his eye. 

Snaking his way under another section of the house, Jaebum leans over a gold earring that looks remarkably similar to one of the ones BamBam had lost just this morning. Next to it lays a small pile of dirt that looks wildly out of place, not the type to be dug by animals, no, more like it’s covering something up.

Jaebum pockets the earring and takes another look at the mound before using his hand to dump it off to the side. It doesn’t take him long to get to the bottom of the hole, and when he does, he’s stunned at what he finds.

Sitting there in the middle of the dirt, tangled together, is a mess of necklaces, bracelets, earrings, and broaches.  _ So this is where the missing jewelry ended up. _

“Jaebum hyung, are you over here?” Youngjae’s voice sounds close, and when Jaebum turns his head, he catches sight of him and Jackson on the opposite side of the wall.

“I’m here,” he affirms, turning back to the jewelry to pull out Jackson’s  _ Wang  _ necklace, which he knows his friend will be thrilled he doesn’t have to replace. 

“Hyung, is everything okay?” Jinyoung calls when he hasn’t heard anything in a while.

Jaebum collects the various jewelry pieces (some even dating back to the 1800s it appears) and brushes them off before placing them in his pocket. “Yeah, I found the missing jewelry. She must have stashed them down here when she realized none of them were her amulet.”

“That’s great. Now please get back up here before I lose my sanity.”

“Okay, okay, I’m coming.”

With full pockets, Jaebum makes to crawl his way back through the bottom of the floor to the furnace chamber. However, an innocent voice pulls him back into the dirt.

_ “Forgive me Father, for I have sinned.” _

Someone else questions, “What was that?”, but Jaebum disregards them completely. Instead, he follows the direction of the timid sound further underneath the house, ignoring the shouts after him from the other four.

Eventually their cries are drowned out when another,  _ “Forgive me Father, for I have sinned,” _ rings out painfully through the creaky wooden beams, like the child who spoke it is crying as he speaks. 

Another turn has Jaebum barely missing a beam with his head, but he dodges it swiftly. What he doesn’t miss however is the hard rock he hits with his knee as he passes, so hard he sends it rolling over itself until it lands face up. Face up with two large holes at the top and a smaller hole right below those two.

It’s then that Jaebum shakily realizes that what he’d hit wasn’t a rock.

It was a skull.

And by the size of it, it wasn’t the skull of an adult.

He gasps into his hand, careful not to scream. 

Instant sorrow rises up within him at the thought of a child’s bones being down here, knowing what they know about the goings on in the house. It stares at him blankly - no eyes in it’s place, just like the spirit of the soldier before.

Jaebum knows how wrong it feels, but he has to get the skull out from under the house in order for them to get a reading on it. Then if the police were to get involved, it would need to be taken to forensics to be determined exactly who this kid was.

There’s a sick feeling in his gut at who it could be.

Wincing, Jaebum fits the skull in his palm and checks for other bones in the same area. They’re either missing or buried, but this is enough to go off of for now.

_ “Forgive me Father,”  _ the child’s voice sobs in the distance, but when Jaebum shines his light around, he catches nothing. 

“Jaebum.”

A hand on Jaebum’s shoulder has him shrieking out loud and dropping his flashlight. He frantically spins around only to find Jinyoung crouched next to him with his arms raised to steady him.

“Yah, Park Jinyoung!” The older grabs at his chest, hoping to calm his rapid heart rate. “I told you not to come down here.”

Jinyoung merely shrugs. “You were taking too long and I thought I heard a voice.”

“I think it was Taehyung,” Jaebum admits after righting himself and steadying his breathing. He levels Jinyoung with a serious look. “I think he was leading me to this…”

Tight in his grip, Jaebum procures the skull from behind his back and sets it within Jinyoung’s sights.

The younger parts his mouth, raking his eyes over the child-size skull before dragging them back to Jaebum’s and tearing into him with a fiery fervor. 

“We need to do a reading,  _ now _ .”

* * *

Everyone gathers in the kitchen conveniently at the same time both Mark and Yugyeom arrive back home with the kids, who occupy themselves in the living room with weekend cartoons. The team gets to work relaying the information they’ve gathered to them, earning shocked expressions and questions of truth towards the woman they once called their foster mother.

Jaebum separates the contents of his pockets onto the table and cleans them off with a dishrag before laying them out straight for everyone to see. Jackson tries to grab at his Wang necklace but Jinyoung swats his hand away easily.

“Not yet, I have to do a reading on it first.”

Jackson grunts, but accepts Jinyoung’s command easily.

The readings - they take time. And most of all, they take energy. Jinyoung’s very own energy as he performs the readings that wipes him dry, down on his knees gasping for air as literally every breath is sucked from his lungs and his cells are crying out from overuse.

While the rest of the group gathers around the table with interest, Mark is the only one who holds back, hand on the nape of his neck and face paling with each passing second.

“I can’t believe so much stuff has happened in this house.” He sighs, biting his lip in thought. “Miss Boa she - I just can’t believe what she let happen to that kid.”

“It wasn’t her fault, Mark-ssi.” Jaebum’s got a comforting hand at the man’s back. “I know it’s a lot to take in, but hopefully Jinyoung’s reading will be able to give us some final answers.” He steps back towards Jinyoung, eyes concerned as they look down. “You ready?”

Jinyoung, ever the more persistent one, the person who’s dominance outweighs the rest, hesitates for a brief moment as he ganders at the array of enchanted objects that line the table. He doesn’t know if he’s truly ready for this or not, or if he ever will be again. It takes a certain kind of strength to do the things he’s able to do, and ever since the accident that took his father’s soul, Jinyoung’s been nauseated with worry that he’s finally lost that strength.

It would be so easy, to lose himself to the power that he possesses, letting it drain him of everything he has until there’s nothing left. But Jinyoung has more to offer than just a limp body drained of energy - he wants to be more than that - so he fights for it. He fights for his life because it’s the only thing he has left in the world.

As if Jaebum senses his hesitation, Jinyoung feels the warm press of a palm spread against his knee as if to say  _ I’m here, don’t worry. _ Where Jaebum touches is like hellfire, prickles of heat bursting under the fabric of Jinyoung’s slacks. He makes the mistake of glancing up into his friend’s eyes, brown fortresses guarded heavily by comforting men ready to stand at their defenses. 

Jinyoung doesn’t know how long he stares into Jaebum’s soulful eyes, but it’s enough to make him numb to the worry that leaped across his mind previously. When Jaebum blinks, Jinyoung falls out of his stupor and sits back, a warmth having washed it’s way over is body starting from the bottom of his toes and ending at the tips of his ears. 

It would be a lie to say he wasn’t more at ease, his nerves now vanished completely. He looks back at Jaebum and then back at his lap, thankful that the older man is able to ground him in the most important areas when he needs it.

Jinyoung only wishes that-

No.

He needs to stop with those frivolous thoughts. He’s got a job to do.

Steadying the oxygen that enters his body as he breathes in and out, Jinyoung guesses this is as ready as he’ll ever be as he eyes the medical tools one by one before a disturbing feeling wells in the pit of his gut when he lands on the anesthesia mask.

Eyes filled with an uncertainty of the stories that are to come, Jinyoung wraps his hand around the curve of the mask and closes his eyes, focusing deeply. He feels every single pair of eyes on him as he falls more and more profoundly in connection with the object.

A spark zaps the tips of his fingers causing him to open his eyes. Only, when Jinyoung does this, he’s no longer surrounded by everyone. He’s no longer even in the kitchen. It takes him a moment to guess after all the time has passed, but he recognizes the basement plain as day, bigger than ever without all the clutter taking up so much space. There’s a patient bed by the door, a bookshelf full of spices and herbs, dozens of candles littering the window sills, and the furnace burning with a fiery passion in the distance.

It’s quiet and dark - around the time everyone must have checked in for the night. Nothing stirs except a tiny mouse in the corner hunting for scraps. Then suddenly,

_ Crack. _

The door smacks against the wall abruptly as two people, one man and one woman, enter the basement in a mess of tangled limbs as they search out each other’s mouths. The woman - long dark locks hanging low over the back of her nurses uniform - Jinyoung recognizes instantly as Bellerive. The man he knows as one of the wounded soldiers living in the home going by the bandage wound tightly around his bicep.

They carry their act of passion to the bed, Bellerive laying the man down as she climbs on top of him. They kiss generously for a moment, but then Jinyoung watches with interest as her hand reaches back under her skirt and pulls out the anesthetic mask.

Jinyoung rushes around to the side and can do nothing more than watch as she roughly slams the mask over the man’s mouth and nose, her eyes wild with what can only be described as insanity. The man beneath her, confused and wiggling to free himself, begins feeling the effects of the anesthesia instantly. He starts to fight back, but his limbs grow weaker and his eyes droop down low. He tries to scream, but nothing exists his parted lips.

The vision begins to wash away from Jinyoung’s view, so he reaches out blindly for another tool. Someone helps put the scalpel in his hand, and another image fades into view.

This time it’s not so easy to see - black clouds swarm his mind, like something, or  _ someone _ , doesn’t want him lurking in the memory. 

He can make out blood staining the floors and matted flesh surrounding the patient table. He blinks and more comes into view - the soldier laying on the table covered in blood, still breathing. He’s missing a few of his toes and both of his thumbs. It’s blurry, but Jinyoung can also make out the gouged black spaces where his eyes used to be. In the corner, Bellerive drops something small into a mason jar and smiles.

The vision changes abruptly then, leading Jinyoung to a few hours later. It’s still hazy - whoever’s working to lock him out is doing a good job. But Jinyoung fights back, watching with a horrified expression as the soldier starts coming to as the witch begins sliding his body into the cremation chamber.

He can’t even speak, mumbling in delusional pain as she closes the door and locks it. With a quick flip of the lever the furnace breathes to life, and that’s when the screams of agony pour in. They’re not audible, of course. Not to the rest of the house, locked away in the chamber. But the screams echo in Jinyoung’s ear as if he were in the chamber with the man himself, and the fire that brews ignites under Jinyoung’s nails and the flames work their way up his body until he’s suffocated by the light and the vision ends.

Sucking in a pained breath that resonates deep within his chest, Jinyoung forces himself not to react to the sorrow he feels, holding the hurt back despite it all but consuming him. She had completely  _ mutilated _ those men. Jinyoung figured it was bad, but he had never imagined it could be like  _ that _ . Bile rises up his throat, but he holds it back, remembering the comforting hand on his knee from before.

Chasing the images in a need to uncover more, Jinyoung’s fingers catch onto the next thing on the table, which he recognizes through closed eyes as the bandage left behind by the soldier that Jaebum had become entangled with.

Instantly he’s transported not to the distant past, no, this is the current day. Jinyoung stands remarkably in the foyer of the home, and everything is exactly the same as it is now, from the picture frames hung on the wall to the coat hanger placed near the front door.

He struts into the living room, caught off guard by the familiar bodies lounging on the couches like it was any other day. Mark and the kids are watching TV - some kid’s show Jinyoung doesn’t know the name of - while Yugyeom is fast asleep with his mouth wide open at the end of the couch.

A movement in the corner catches his attention, but no one else seems to notice. He walks back to the foyer and is met with an apparition lingering by the front door. From the same bandage wrapped carelessly around his arm and the dark circles that replace his eyes, Jinyoung can only guess this is the soldier he had watched die previously.

Only instead of scared and confused, the man’s spirit is tired and melancholic, hunched over like he’s given up. Something catches his attention from across the room and he perks up, face molding into one of emptinesses.

Jinyoung turns to see what it could be and freezes.  _ The witch. _

She hovers near the staircase watching the soldier, and if Jinyoung wasn’t a part of this timeline, he could swear she was peering at him too. 

Different than her living self, the dark witch stands eerily with her matted black hair that falls haphazardly over her face. It’s obvious she’s an angered spirit, but the question is why is she concerned still with the soldier she killed eighty years ago. 

Jinyoung waits in the corner, watching as everything begins to unfold.

An ear-splitting eruption echoes throughout the house, causing Jinyoung to cover his ears. Ignoring the confused words of the group in the other room, Jinyoung focuses on the witch, observing her mannerisms and her focus.

Taehyung runs down the stairs next, and that’s when it hits Jinyoung. This is when they reported hearing cannonfire.

The events follow in tandem with how they were described to him - another blast rings from the house and vibrates the interior roughly. Frames collide with the floor and glass shatters. The family rushes to the foyer, attempting to leave.

Across from them and out of their sight, the witch lifts her hand and arches it towards the door, like she’s willing something to happen. Jinyoung spins and finds the soldier’s spirit no longer there, but doesn’t have to wonder where it is for long.

With a whole new life of his own, the soldier pushes through the wood right as Mark reaches for the door knob, stunning the family into silence. Jinyoung moves past them to gage the witch in all her glory, taking in the power she holds as her hand follows the soldier up the stairs to the second floor. If he didn’t know any better, he’d swear she’d put him under a spell.

The vision ends and Jinyoung comes up for air, meeting the startled eyes waiting for any new information as he looks around.

“Are you okay?” Jaebum checks, hand still perched upon his knee where Jinyoung had long since forgotten about it.

“Yeah,” he confirms, wiping the sweat from his brow. “Hand me the jewelry pieces.”

Jackson does away with the medical tools as Jaebum carefully slides over the jewelry like they are sacred pieces of aztec gold.

The first piece that calls out to him is the silver brooch with grain-sized rubies integrated around the center. It’s an older piece, but not by much. Jinyoung reaches for it, lets his fingers trace over the aged silver as his lids fall.

When Jinyoung opens his eyes, he finds himself nestled in a woman’s bedroom, and by the looks of the ancient cedar trimmed bed frame and vanity mirror to match, he can only guess what time period it is.

A stirring in his peripheral vision turns his attention to the woman fast asleep under the covers, her breathing steadily rising up and down. He recognizes her as Kwon Boa, the old caretaker of the foster home.

Standing across from her and watching her sleep like a hawk is none other than Lee Seokmin, barely six years of age. It strikes Jinyoung as odd that the child would just stand and leer and his foster mother like this, and for a moment he chalks it up to sleepwalking.

That is until his eyes find the mirror, and instead of an image of a little boy, he’s met with the gruesome figure of the witch standing in his place.  _ He’s already possessed. _

Jinyoung watches the scene unfold through the mirror as the witch inhabiting Seokmin’s body reaches out with her hand and pulls the brooch from her snoozing form.

Jinyoung doesn’t even have to get his hands on the other pieces of old jewelry that were discovered - the scene evaporates before his eyes and he finds himself in another room with three beds, sleeping children in each.

Seokmin’s possessed body carefully removes necklaces and bracelets from each child, and then the vision draws back. It doesn’t matter anyway; Jinyoung knows what happens next.

There’s a slight stabbing pain behind his right eye now, but Jinyoung pushes through it. He knows he needs to read everything else on the table no matter what kind of torture it puts him through.

He’s not even listening to any of the voices around him anymore, to emerged in the images being presented to him. Usually he takes a break halfway through to stop himself from getting too tired, but Jinyoung can’t help himself from breaking his own rule and pushing his limits.

He reaches for the skull, only minorly freaking out at the thought of having to hold a human skull in his hands, and a  _ child’s  _ skull at that. It’s with a heavy heart that he begins projecting himself into the next memory of another gone too soon, holding his eyes shut tight to get a clearer reading.

Once again, his eyes are clouded. He can only make that he’s back in the basement, but it’s awfully dark. There’s a little boy in front of him, and a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach tells him it’s Kim Taehyung.

He’s scared, cold, and crying.

The lights flicker around him uncontrollably, and before he knows it, he’s tripping over his feet and landing on his back. He cracks his head on the cement floor, and when he comes too, the witch appears out of thin air hovering over him menacingly. 

Taehyung goes to scream, but when he opens his mouth so does she, letting free a disgusting black sludge that drips down the boy’s throat until he’s gagging and spitting up on the floor. 

Seconds pass, and in the blink of an eye Taehyung stands up with a fever and brushes the dirt off his pants like nothing happened. His body language does a complete 180 and his eyes are hardened. The witch is nowhere in sight.

_ The possession. _

The scene shifts, and Jinyoung finds himself under the house where Jaebum was moments ago. Only this time, Taehyung’s possessed body is dumping jewelry pieces from his pockets into the dirt and covering them up. The child’s body contorts then, like his spine has just broken. His mouth opens, and he retches, disposing of the black sludge that then disappears into the ground.

Taehyung’s body crumbles in on itself and he’s left to rot.

Escaping the heartbreaking memory nearly sweating buckets, Jinyoung swats away the hands reaching for him and the pleads to take a break.

He picks up Mark and Yugyeom’s gemstone necklaces, falling into the same pattern. He’s taken back to just last week, but Yugyeom and Mark aren’t in the picture yet. Instead, Jungkook sits in his bedroom talking to someone on his bed. Upon further inspection, Jinyoung recognizes the figure as Taehyung.

“No, I can’t take it!” Jungkook cries, folded his arms together.

_ “If you take it, I’ll be your friend forever.” _

Jungkook is conflicted, but still, he shakes his head. “But why do you need it?”

_ “Because,” _ the spirit says, glancing at the opposite side of the room, behind Jinyoung.  _ “It’s a game I play.” _

Jinyoung takes the fear in the child’s eyes and spins around, coming face to face with Bellerive watching over the interaction frighteningly. Now that he has a chance to see her up close, he notes the anger she carries in her hunched shoulders, the malevolence in the lines that form her no longer beautiful face, and the vengeance that consumes the black pit of her eyes.

“You promise you’ll be my friend?” Jungkook asks, holding out his pinky. The spirit extends his own back, wrapping it around the boy’s.

_ “Forever.” _

As Jinyoung draws out of this vision, he comes to realize that Jungkook and Taehyung are just other innocent lives being controlled by the witch on her conquest to find her life force. It’s no ones fault, especially with an entity that strong. Jinyoung could feel the push back by all the spirits under her power, knowing they fought hard to break her control over them. But they fear her.

With the last two pieces sitting before him, Jinyoung reaches for Jackson’s Wang necklace in one hand and BamBam’s diamond earrings with the other. Jaebum puts a hand over his, halting him for a moment.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stop for a minute?”

Jinyoung shakes his head roughly, swallowing his spit to quench his dry throat. “I’m almost done.”

He must sound worked up from everything, if the look Jaebum shoots him is anything to go by. But Jinyoung doesn’t care about that right now. All he cares about is getting these last pieces fit into the puzzle.

For the last time in this reading, Jinyoung takes the deepest breath he can manage and dives into the memory given to him.

He opens his eyes and finds himself at the top of the stairs leading to the basement. Only this time, something is off. It doesn’t feel like any of the other memories did, and Jinyoung can’t figure out why.

A noise echoes from the back of the basement so he follows it, taking two steps at a time until he reaches the ground. What he finds has him gasping out loud and forgetting how to work his legs.

Jaebum is laying on the ground before him, hands clutching his throat as he gasps for air. His face is flushed a deep red fading into purple as he continues to choke and thrash around the floor. Like Jinyoung is stuck in a trance, he’s frozen to the spot, trying to understand what’s happening while simultaneously trying to remember a time when Jaebum had been suffocated like this in the past.

In any case, it wouldn’t have been a memory tied to Jackson’s necklace or BamBam’s earring, and it wouldn’t have presented itself in the basement of this home.

Jaebum’s face fades to purple, and Jinyoung wants nothing more than to run to his side and help him. But something is holding him back - something wants him to see this.

It’s agonizing and makes him sick, and Jinyoung doesn’t think he can do this much longer. Then suddenly,  _ she _ appears.

The witch is sitting on Jaebum’s chest with her hands wrapped powerfully around his neck, squeezing and squeezing with every ounce of strength she has in her. Jinyoung watches horrified, mouth struggling to yell Jaebum’s name, to scream, to do anything. 

The Jaebum stops fighting. His hands fall to his side. His chest drops. His eyes gloss over.

The witch turns her head ever so slowly in Jinyoung’s direction with a spine chilling grin, and that’s when he realizes with eyes brimming with tears what’s going on.

This isn’t a past memory because it never happened. No, this is a vision of the future the witch is showing him. She’s going to kill Jaebum.

Jinyoung abruptly stands from his chair and drops the jewelry without even thinking twice, the only thought crossing his mind is wanting to make the vision disappear. He startles the group, especially Jaebum, who’s already got two hands on his shoulders to hold him back. 

However the vision doesn’t disperse right away, and the image of Jaebum’s dead body stares up at him as it begins to pale with each passing second. The tears have already started.

The vision still hasn’t ended. “No!” He screams, trying to claw the vision away with his hands like it’s a painting he can just rip up. However, this one plays over and over like a tattoo forever inked into his skin. He presses the palms of his hands to his eyes and feels the wetness, ignores it, and tries to stifle the sickening image. “No!”

“Jinyoung-ah, snap out of it!” Jaebum finds the sides of Jinyoung’s face and holds him, unease written all over his own face as his eyes run back and forth over him. “You’re okay.”

Jaebum’s always been his rock, grounding him to this world. It makes what he just saw all the more worse. His words anchor him as Jaebum keeps repeating  _ You’re okay _ , in Jinyoung’s ear, and when Jinyoung pulls his hands away the vision is gone.

He realizes now that his hands are glistening and his eyes are glazed over with tears that he doesn’t have the energy in him to keep from falling. Jinyoung knows every eye in the room is on him, but he only sees Jaebum - it’s all he’s ever seen.

Jaebum, with his holier than thou attitude and strict rules he has to follow in his life in order to give himself to God, the person who Jinyoung watched grow up from a less than confident dorky teenager to a man devoted to helping others, the man who’d put anyone before himself and even go as far as to take the blame for something he never even did, the one who makes everything in the world feel simple, grounding Jinyoung to it when he needs it most. 

Jaebum, the only one Jinyoung has ever truly needed.

And now all Jinyoung sees when he looks into his eyes is his lifeless body. He’ll do everything in his power, even if it means giving his own life, to make sure that doesn’t happen.

The tears are flowing harder, but Jinyoung doesn’t care. He takes Jaebum’s hands in his. “You have to leave,” he hiccups.

Jaebum’s soft voice matches the thumbs that wipe away stray tears as they fall. “What? Jinyoung-ah I don’t understand-”

“I know you don’t but,” Jinyoung sobs, struggling to find a breath. “You have to leave right now.” Jaebum doesn’t budge, confusion on his face mirroring everyone else’s. “Jaebum hyung please!”

The group startles at his outburst, Mark lending him a comforting hand. “Jinyoung-ssi what’s wrong?”

“I can’t…” Jinyoung drops their tangled hands, but still holds onto Jaebum’s like he’ll evaporate if he lets go. “P-please hyung. Please just get away from this place and promise me you won’t come back.”

“But what about the case?” The older’s eyebrows scrunch together and he moves closer to Jinyoung so they’re barely a foot apart.

“Screw the case. We’ll finish it.”

“Jinyoungie, I-”

“ _ Please, _ ” he pleads with every thing he has left within his soul, tears running down his cheeks. Jinyoung steps closer, removing the distance between their bodies. Before he knows it, their foreheads are pressing against each other, and besides that night before his wedding, Jinyoung thinks this might be the most intimate they’ve ever been with each other.

Jaebum must get the picture, eyeing the tiny space where their noses are almost touching. He resigns, forcing out a sigh. “Fine, but I’m getting a motel in town and calling with my number. You’d better tell me what’s going on when I get there.”

“I promise. Now please just, go.”

Despite the confusion all around and the group joining in on their little moment, Jaebum squeezes Jinyoung’s hand before he grabs his coat and exits the house.

Jinyoung makes sure the car is out of sight and does his best to wipe the tears from his eyes before turning back to the group.

“What was that all about?” Yugyeom glances at him with worry, hands clutched at the back of his chair.

Jinyoung sniffs hard to clear his runny nose, trying to get back on track despite the setback of losing one of their team members. “It’s not important right now.”

“Not important?” Jackson scoffs. “You just sent Jaebum hyung away and told him not to come back!”

“I’ll explain it all later, everything is fine,” he responds, easing the group only a little bit. “Now look, I figured out what’s been happening here.”

“It’s her! The dark entity, it’s been the witch all along!” Jinyoung goes on to explain, peaking their attention now. “Ever since she was burned on the property and laid the foundations of that curse, she’s been looking for her amulet which would bring her back. But she has to have a corporeal form in order to actually attain what she’s after.”

“I’m sorry, ‘corporeal’?” Mark raises an eyebrow.

“Corporeal - it means material, physical.” Jinyoung explains. “Right now she’s non-corporeal, meaning she’s just an entity with no ability of physical touch. Not like humans anyway. She needs a human body in order to find her amulet and fulfill the curse.”

“And that’s why she possessed the children?” Mark challenges.

“Exactly! But she wasn’t anticipating Boa finding out about the possession and bringing in someone to try and exorcise her.” Jinyoung goes on to divulge. “Since it went wrong and Seokmin died, she had to dispose of the body. Then she had to go into hibernation until she was strong enough to possess again because the exorcism had severely wounded her.”

Mark glances at the skull on the table. “And then Taehyung.” 

“I’m so sorry, Mark-ssi.” Jinyoung gulps, the vision of the boys purpose in this forever now a memory for him to bear witness to despite not being his own. “But you’re right. She’s been possessing the children so they can find the amulet for her, and when she can’t find what she’s after, dumps their bodies where we can only hope they can be found. But I saw something else, whenever we’ve experienced something in the house by one of the other spirits, she’s always been standing to the side, watching. The ghosts have even said, ‘ _ She’s making me do it, _ ’.”

Intrigued, Yugyeom scratches the back of his neck. “What does that mean?”

“The witch has been manipulating the spirits in the house to show themselves in order to distract us from what she really wants.” He discloses softly, leading nicely into his next answer. “To possess a child and find her amulet.”

At the big reveal, all six heads turn in unison towards the living room where the children continue to talk amongst themselves as they watch TV.

“Are any of them…?” Mark gulps.

Jinyoung sighs, pulling the small bottle of holy water from his pocket and tossing it to Youngjae. “There’s only one way to find out.”

Mark calls out to the kids as everyone enters the living room, making them line up side by side. It’s too silent for Jinyoung’s liking, but there’s nothing he can do about the tension that feeds in the air like a leech. 

The anxiety is weighed deep on everyone’s shoulders, especially Mark and Yugyeom’s. If one of the children were to be possessed, they would have to figure out a way to exorcise the demon without ripping the kid apart. That would be the worst case scenario. Jinyoung prays it doesn’t come down to that.

When Youngjae begins, it’s as if someone is holding a gun to the kid’s heads and playing Russian roulette. That’s what it feels like at least, as he douses his fingers in holy water and shapes a cross into Chan’s forehead. 

Nothing happens, and the first collective sigh of relief is taken.

The deacon moves onto Tzuyu next, rubbing the form onto her. Again, nothing happens and she walks away clean. Ryujin also comes away unscathed, but then Youngjae gets to Jungkook, and every breath in the room seems to hold.

But the first press of Youngjae’s thumb to Jungkook’s skin doesn’t get a reaction, and after the cross is formed, Jungkook wipes the dripping water away like it’s nothing special. Jinyoung lets go of the table he’d been clutching so hard his knuckles had turned white and takes another shuddering breath in. One more to go.

Youngjae stops before Jaein, the youngest and most innocent of the five. She stares up at him with perfect little brown eyes that nobody could say no to, so when he crouches down to check her for possession, no one expects anything out of the ordinary.

They should know by now to expect the unexpected.

As soon as Youngjae leans his wet thumb in her direction, something in the air shifts. Jinyoung feels the difference immediately in his gut as their surroundings drop in temperature and it suddenly feels darker.

Out of nowhere the television starts to change channels and the volume changes in succession of up and down. The lamp begins flickering, and while everyone is caught in fear glancing around, Jinyoung is staring straight at Youngjae and Jaein. 

_ It’s her. _

He rushes to their sides before it’s too late, but something catches on his throat. Jinyoung is suddenly ripped backwards by a force digging into his neck and sweeping his feet off the ground. He chokes as his feet slide helplessly against the wood, hands coming up in realization that it’s his own cross necklace that’s choking him, and that something’s dragging him back by the chain.

His feet give out and then suddenly he’s on his back being dragged into the kitchen away from everyone else. And it hurts so bad, he knows he can feel blood.

“Jinyoung-ah!” Jackson screams, pouncing on his body to keep him from moving. BamBam rushes in after him, crouching behind where Jinyoung claws at his own neck in desperation to unclasp his necklace and drop it to the floor next to him.

“Hyung, are you okay?”

Jinyoung is too injured to answer, struggling to find a breath where he does nothing but cough and cough, hand clutching the raw skin of his neck. He waves them away as he regains as normal breathing pattern, eyes falling back into the living room as the lights continue to flicker and the floorboards begin to shake.

The kids are now screaming, clutching onto Yugyeom for protection. All except Jaein, who watches her surroundings with interest. A vase full of fake flowers nestled on top of a side table flings itself at the wall, and the sounds of doors slamming from within the house erupt violently.

Youngjae ignores the commotion and turns back to the girl, dabbing more holy water onto his fingers. He swipes them across her forehead and fights back the shock when nothing happens. 

He turns to Mark. “She’s not possessed - owshit!” Youngjae doubles over, yelping in pain. He clutches the back of his neck and cries out, causing Mark to freak out and envelope Jaein into his arms to get her away from whatever is happening.

Jinyoung sees this, waving BamBam and Jackson over. “I’m fine, go help Youngjae.”

The pair rush to the deacon’s side, lifting him up easily. Tzuyu screams in the background as a picture frame goes flying off the wall and smashes into the window that overlooks the front porch. Chaos reigns the longer they remain inside the house, and that’s when Jackson’s reflexes kick into overdrive.

It’s so quick he almost misses it, but he sees the coffee table lifting up on it’s own out of the corner of his eye. He catches on instinct the direction it’s going and drops all of Youngjae’s weight on BamBam to push Mark and Jaein out of the way before it smashes into them.

It causes the three of them to go spiraling to the floor with Jaein tucked in the middle for extra cushion, but luckily Mark is fast with his hands too and stops Jackson from completely crushing the child with his body, grabbing onto his shoulder roughly and pushing back. Jackson hovers over the pair, shushing Jaein from crying. Mark looks stunned for the most part, but there’s also a hint of a smile as he catches Jackson’s eyes.

Then the moment vanishes like an etch a sketch.

Mark looks beyond Jackson and his eyes widen in fear. One of the girls screams.

Yugyeom and the kids sway towards the door, BamBam and Youngjae are frozen to the spot clinging to each other, Jinyoung barely lifts himself up to the table and gasps, and Jackson manages to turn his head to catch a glimpse of the witch as she clings to the ceiling above him with a wicked smile ripped into her face before she lets go and begins falling.

Jackson turns back to Mark and Jaein to wrap them in his arms as screaming starts all around them, but Jackson lifts his head after a moment when he notices no collision with his body. He checks his arms, his back, his legs, his clothes, but comes up empty. He gets to his feet, helping Mark and Jaein up as well. There’s no witch in sight.

Jinyoung stands, clutching his sore throat. His voice is hoarse, but everyone understands him fully when he says, “It’s time for us to leave.”


	4. Possession

“Youngjae-yah, you’re going to have to cleanse the house.” Jinyoung announces in a fit of urgency as he brushes past all the bodies bustling past him frantically.

They’ve gotten a game plan all worked up which Jinyoung believes is foolproof. First, they work to get the family out of the house as soon as possible. This means getting them overnight bags and food for however long it will take until the house is clean. It’s obvious that the witch is no longer holding back in her resentment towards those who have wronged her, and she’s going to take it out on anything and anyone, violently.

The family will meet Jaebum at the motel and he’ll help them get all squared away for the night while the team takes care of the house. Youngjae will take the lead on blessing the demonic entity away with Jinyoung by his side the whole time while Jackson and BamBam stick around as backup in case anything is to happen.

It’s happened too many times to count, and with a powerful dark force such as the one they’re dealing with now, anything can happen.

When Jaebum had called, he was less than thrilled that he missed all the excitement and isn’t allowed to be there when the thick of things go down. He had begged Jinyoung to tell him what was going on and why he had freaked out and forced him away, but Jinyoung couldn’t bring himself to do it. 

_ You’re going to die if you stay in this house _ , he wished he could say, but if he did, that made it even more real. And Jinyoung couldn’t face that. In the end he deemed it not as important as making sure the family was safe and Jaebum dropped the subject.

“Hyung, I’ve never led a cleansing before.” Youngjae frets, eyes scanning nervously across the older’s face. “Jaebum hyung’s always been with me.”

Jinyoung takes in the slump of Youngjae’s shoulders and the indecisiveness of his brows. He realizes that  _ this  _ will be the first time Youngjae will be leading something of this magnitude on his own. Even though Jinyoung will be there every step of the way, there’s still nothing that can prevent the deacon from getting cold feet. 

It’s a lot to ask for, Jinyoung knows. But he also knows that Youngjae is the brightest and most coveted in his class, revered by all in the church. If anyone can do it, it’s him.

“Look at me Youngjae.” With sympathetic hands, Jinyoung rests them easy atop the younger’s shoulders. When the deacon peers up, his lips are pinched together. “God put you here for a reason - he wouldn’t have led you here if he knew you were going to fail. He believes in you. I believe in you too.”

The power of his words must have some kind of effect on Youngjae, because the result is instantaneous. His face visibly relaxes, his shoulders straighten confidently, and he heaves out the nervous breath he’d been holding.

He nods. “Thank you, Jinyoung hyung.”

Jinyoung responds by squeezing his shoulders. Youngjae had always felt like a younger brother to him and Jaebum both, and they’d do anything for him. “Jackson’s got the sage sticks in his truck.”

Following in his footsteps, Jinyoung leds Youngjae out to the front yard where everyone has gathered by their cars. It bleeds into the late afternoon, the sky above crafted beautifully by magenta and royal blue brush strokes.

The family packs up their BMW while Jackson and BamBam lean against Jackson’s police truck talking amongst themselves. Jinyoung leads Youngjae to the guys and begins double checking everything and running through their duties again.

“Hey, where’s Jungkookie?” Yugyeom calls from the back end of his car.

Jinyoung turns away from his conversation, catching the ease when Mark says, “He went upstairs to get his Megatron toy. You know he can’t sleep without it.”

“Why didn’t you go with him?” Yugyeom nearly slams the trunk closed on his fingers. “I don’t want him in that house all by himself.”

Mark crosses his arms over his chest in annoyance. “He wasn’t alone. Jinyoung-ssi and Youngjae-ssi were there too. But it’s whatever, I’ll go grab him.”

Jinyoung rushes out from behind Jackson’s truck and stops in front of Mark to keep him from moving forward. “No, I don’t want any of you guys going back into the house for any reason. I’ll go get him.”

If Mark doesn’t like the idea, he doesn’t say anything. He relents, nodding for Jinyoung to take over before going back to bickering with his brother.

Jinyoung wastes no time getting back into the house and sprinting up the stairs to the second floor. He doesn’t want any of the family stepping foot into the house again until it’s cleaned because anything could happen. With the forces in this home having been so powerful for so long, only growing in strength over time, Jinyoung doesn’t even want to think about what would happen to Mark, Yugyeom, or the children the longer they stayed unprotected.

“Kookie, come on!” He calls from the hallway, getting his hand on the doorknob and twisting it. “Your brothers and sisters are all waiting on-”

Jinyoung pauses in the doorway, hand still wrapped around the knob. Across from him, Jungkook stands at the window by his bed that overlooks the entire front yard. He watches everyone go about their business without saying a word. He doesn't even react to Jinyoung’s presence.

“-you.”

A sense of dread punches Jinyoung in the gut. He tries to ignore it.

Jinyoung licks his lips. “Kookie, are you ready to go?”

Eyes not wavering from where they’re practically glued to the scene below him, the child merely nods his head. The atmosphere is suffocating, and Jinyoung is beginning to think something may be wrong.

Then as if waking from a trance, Jungkook bounces away from the window, and Jinyoung can see the transformer toy nestled snugly under his right arm. He wants to feel secure in the way the child transforms back into his normal self, but the painful feeling spreading in the pit of his stomach is telling him something different.

“Yes hyungie, I’m ready to go!”

“Okay great!” Jinyoung crouches down with a wide smile, trying to keep it cool. He lifts his open palm up near his head, waiting for the boy to react. Jungkook gets the idea right away, giving the older a loud smacking hi-five with his tiny hand. Instead of letting the boy’s palm fall away however, Jinyoung latches onto it, gripping it tightly between his long fingers.

Jungkook visibly falters. “Hyungie, what are you doing?” He shrieks, trying to claw his way out of Jinyoung’s grasp.

But Jinyoung isn’t dumb enough to fall for the act. His smile drops as he clutches onto the child with ease, overcome with both failure and defeat. 

Where their skin meets is the same fiery sensation Jinyoung had felt the night before in the very spot which they are standing, when he had brushed hands with the demonic entity - the spirit of the witch. Now Jinyoung feels the searing pain crawl it’s way down his wrist and lick it’s way to his elbow with no sign of stopping. 

He looks into Jungkook’s eyes and no longer finds the bright but quiet little nine year old inside of them. He’s stopped fighting, glaring at Jinyoung with a heinous aura that makes him want to run as fast as he can.

They hadn’t been careful enough, and now Bellerive had gotten what she wanted. She’d found her next victim.

Reversing the roles Jungkook flips his hand to snag Jinyoung’s beneath his own, squeezing with a vice grip stronger than that of a nine year old that has Jinyoung squeaking out in pain. He claws at their intertwined hands but Jungkook squeezes so hard the bones pop.

Jinyoung bites back a scream. “I command you to leave his body,” he gasps through the blinding pain of his probably broken hand.

To be fair, Jinyoung’s never been face to face with a demon in a situation like this, so it’s not entirely his fault that his commandment goes unfazed. Jaebum had always been the one that came in contact with the evil like this. 

Jungkook - Bellerive - hears his words and overlooks them completely. His mouth turns upwards into a crooked grin, sending another punch to Jinyoung’s gut. Before he knows what’s happening next his back hits something hard, the impact causing his eyes to close on their own reflexively. When he opens them, Jinyoung is astounded to find himself suspended in the air with the entire back of his body pressed to the wall.

He tries to move - his arms, legs, head - but nothing gives way. The only thing mobile are his eyes, which are drawn downwards to where Bellerive watches him intently with her crooked grin. Not only is Jinyoung physically paralyzed, but he realizes he’s also emotionally paralyzed as well.

Not only does dread and failure eat it’s way at him, but fear begins covering him like a blanket while the anxiety courses through his veins. He’d been telling Jaebum the entire time that he was fine, that he’d gotten over the events that led to his father’s death. But it wasn’t true.

It was a situation just like this, when Jinyoung had slipped up, gotten too reckless on a case and ended up under demon control. It led to the death of his father and ever since then, the fear of being taken over again has sat in the back of his mind like a curse. 

This is the worst situation he can be in too. Jaebum is gone (out of Jinyoung’s own request) he’s strapped to the wall to bend to the will of a demon (his deepest fear), Mark and Yugyeom aren’t coming back inside (again, at his own request). The only thing he can count on right now is Youngjae, BamBam or Jackson realizing something’s wrong or outsmarting the demon himself.

“I command you to leave-”

Jungkook twitches his head, and suddenly Jinyoung can’t breathe. An elephant sits on his chest making it nearly impossible for oxygen to enter his lungs. He can’t move, he can’t breathe, and now he’s going to die in the one way he’s terrified of most. 

But then, his oxygen deprived brain gets an idea. It’s horrible, reckless, and downright stupid. But it’s the only way to potentially save Jungkook and everyone else involved.

“Take…  _ me _ .”

The force on Jinyoung’s chest lightens, and he’s able to breathe unrestricted. 

“Take me instead.” He heaves heavily.

Jinyoung’s not going to die afraid. If he’s going to go, he’s going to take charge of the way he ends his life. If the witch takes his body instead, it saves Jungkook’s life. Even if Bam or Jackson found them after the fact, with Jungkook possessed and Jinyoung’s dead body, there would be a slim chance Jungkook would survive the exorcism. He’s so young - his body’s not strong enough.

But if she were to take Jinyoung instead, they might have a chance. She’ll either use him and kill him, or the team will find him and extract her out. If it all goes well with a force this strong,  _ maybe _ he’ll survive. It’s everything he fears and more, but God put him on this path for a reason. He has to save Jungkook.

“ _ Please _ ,” he begs. “Take me.”

Bellerive hovers for a moment, thinking. Just when Jinyoung thinks she’s going to kill him then and there and not take the deal, his center of gravity shifts, and in a swift motion he’s off the wall and spread along the floor.

The weight of Jungkook’s body presses him into the floorboards as Bellerive settles on top of him with her sinister grin. 

“You’re a fool.” Her voice is distorted, lower in pitch.

Jinyoung mirrors her grin. “Then I guess I’ll see you in hell.”

His head cracks against the wood as he’s forced back. Jungkook’s mouth opens wide, and in a last effort attempt to get help, he yells out.

“Jack-”

But he’s not fast enough. 

The world starts to go black, and before Jinyoung loses consciousness his fingers find the edge of his cross necklace and rips it off with the remaining energy he has left.

***

After a while of radio silence from Jinyoung and Jungkook, Mark and Yugyeom start getting worried.

“He’s probably just getting Jinyoung hyung’s help picking out some transformer toys,” BamBam laughs in hopes to ease their worries. Mark and Yugyeom glance at each other, them back to BamBam having accepted his answer. “But I’ll go see what’s taking them so long. Then when they get out here we can all smack Jinyoung hyung around.”

Jackson shoves him hard in the direction of the house and giggles. “You know Jinyoungie could break your arms like a twig.”

BamBam turns on his heels before he reaches the porch, shouting back, “He’s an old man, he’d have to catch me first!”

Jackson waves him off for having the maturity of a child, and BamBam dips into the home. He finds it strangely quiet, stepping towards the staircase. “Jinyoung hyung!” He hangs onto the banister and calls. “Are you finished with Jungkookie?”

Before he can get a response, the home phone rings in the distance.

Picking up the white receiver after a few rings, BamBam places it to his ear. “Hello?”

“BamBam?”

His eyebrows raise. “Jaebum hyung? Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine,” Jaebum says through the speaker. “But I found it.”

“Found what?”

“The amulet!” He all but yells into the receiver like he’s in a hurry. “Well, the gemstone from the amulet, anyway. See I ran into a priest at the motel, Father Paul.”

BamBam’s face shifts into confusion. “Why was a priest at a motel?”

“I wasn’t in the place to ask, Bam.” Then the younger boy realizes with a sour face. “But we got to talking about the witch and the legend and I asked him if he knew what the Heart of Christ meant. He said it was a long kept secret by the church, but when Bellerive was killed they took her amulet and fastened into one of the monuments of Christ so that it would be blessed for all eternity.”

“Shit, hyung,” BamBam runs his fingers through his hair. He turns slightly and sees Jinyoung coming down the stairs and visibly relaxes. “What church is it?”

“St. James Church on Federal street. I’m on my way now, I want you all to meet me there.”

“Got it.”

The phone clicks into place right as Jinyoung meets him in the living room. “Who was that?”

“Jaebum hyung,” BamBam responds, now giddy. “He found the amulet.”

Jinyoung’s face changes instantly, lighting up. “He did? Where is it?”

“It’s at St. James Church. Jaebum hyung’s on his way now, he wants us to meet him.”

Jinyoung thinks pensively for a moment before seeming to come up with an idea. “Actually,” he starts, walking towards the door. “How about I meet him there while you and Jackson stay and make sure the kids get to the motel okay? I’d rather they have some sort of protection, just in case.”

BamBam’s face changes slightly. “Oh, okay hyung. That makes sense.” Jinyoung makes to move for the door, but BamBam holds him back. “Hey wait, speaking of kids. Where’s Jungkookie?”

“Oh!” Jinyoung chuckles awkwardly. “He’s in the bathroom, he had a bit of an accident earlier. He should be out in a minute, why don’t you wait down here for him and I’ll get going?”

The younger shrugs. “Sounds good to me. Also, if anyone mentions something about a plan to beat you up for taking so long, it was Jackson’s idea.”

Jinyoung smiles, but BamBam notices how it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Before he can comment on it Jinyoung is out the door and jogging to the group. BamBam can’t hear what they’re saying from his view through the window, but he must imagine Jinyoung relaying Jaebum’s message to them and Mark offering to let him drive his car because Jinyoung is disappearing beside the house and Mark’s little wagon is driving away seconds later.

With that taken care of, BamBam waits like he’s been instructed to do, waiting for Jungkook to finish using the restroom so they can get the family all situated at the motel. A few minutes pass by, a particularly long time for someone using the restroom, even if they did make a mess of themselves. Plus, he hasn’t heard a single sound from upstairs, which strikes him as odd.

The film student peeks his head by the staircase and sees the light in the bathroom still on. “Jungkookie are you almost done?”

Radio silence.

BamBam gets nervous, finding himself slowly ascending the steps a few at a time until he’s standing outside the bathroom door. “Yah, Kookie, is everything okay in there?”

When he gets no response again, BamBam takes matters into his own hands and opens the door. He’s stunned to find the room empty. 

“Jungkook-ah, this isn’t funny,” he shuts off the light and closes the door before looking in the next obvious place: his room. “If you’re playing hide and seek you give up because you win-”

The moment BamBam gets the door cracked open enough to see the motionless body of Jungkook on the floor, he’s tearing through the room and screaming his name.

“Oh my god, oh my  _ god _ .” The older rambles, pressing his fingers to the child’s neck to make sure he’s still alive. He still has a pulse. It’s weak, but it’s there. “Oh thank fuck!” He cries, moving his hand away, confused to find black slime covering his fingers.

“What the hell?” When he looks back at Jungkook, he notices the same black sludge, almost like tar, coats his neck and fades from his mouth. He doesn’t have time to think about it, enveloping the child in his arms bridal style and hurrying to get him out of the house.

“Guys!” He screams frantically once he steps onto the porch, the boy regaining a little bit of consciousness in his arms. “Something happened to Jungkook!”

Everyone erupts in confusion and mass questions thrown at BamBam that he has no idea how to answer. He slides Jungkook into Mark’s arms as Mark falls to his knees on the ground in tears, the family and both BamBam and Jackson hovering over them.

“Jungkook-ah! Can you hear me?” Mark sobs. The boy nods weakly. “We need to get him to the hospital, I don’t - I don’t know what’s wrong!”

“I don’t know what happened,” BamBam holds the back of his head anxiously. “I went in to check on them and Jinyoung hyung said he was in the bathroom, but when I looked he was passed out on the floor of his bedroom with this black stuff all over him.” For emphasis, BamBam holds up the hand he forgot to wipe off.

He goes to do so, but Jackson snatches his wrist before he could do so. “Wait,” Jackson instructs, bringing BamBam’s fingers to his nose. Despite the younger’s confusion and flailing to get away, Jackson looks at the boy with shock. “It smells like sulfur, a sign of demonic possession.”

Mark peers down at the child in his arms. “Jungkook is possessed?”

Jackson motions for BamBam to get to his truck. “Get Youngjae the holy water.”

In a quick flash the holy water is in Youngjae’s hands and he’s crouching down beside the child. Nothing happens when he marks the cross across his forehead. The rest of the group hovers perplexed, that is until Jungkook reaches a hand up to tap Mark on the chest.

Mark smiles, wiping a stray tear from his eye. “Yes, Kookie?”

“V wants me to tell you something,” the boy rasps lowly, eyes blinking blearily as they struggle to remain open. “He says the witch is gone.”

Mark brushes the brown bangs out of the child’s face as Youngjae leans a hand on his chest in prayer. As he finishes, he meets the boy’s sleepy eyes. “Jungkook-ah, does V know where the witch is now?”

Jungkook nods his head. Meekly, he uses the last of his energy to lift his hand up, pointing in BamBam’s direction. “She’s with your friend.”

Mark pulls Jungkook into his chest as the nine year old drifts into unconsciousness yet again. He informs the team that they’ll be checking him into the hospital and if they need anything to come find them there.

As they drive off, BamBam, Jackson, and Youngjae stare at each other in confusion, wondering exactly what Jungkook meant by  _ she’s with your friend. _

As BamBam thinks about it harder, he recalls how Jinyoung had been odder than usual, and practically begged them to stay behind while he went to help Jaebum get the amulet himself. He thought it was just Jinyoung’s strange way of wanting to be with Jaebum alone, but now he’s not so sure.

And the more he thinks about it, the more he realizes that he never heard Jungkook in the bathroom at all. And if he wasn’t in the bathroom, left unconscious on the floor of his room, it meant Jinyoung had lied to him. And Jinyoung never lied.

“It’s Jinyoung hyung.” BamBam gasps with the tantalizing knowledge. “It’s Jinyoung hyung and I told him right where the amulet was.”

* * *

  


Jaebum stands in the middle of the grand chapel surrounded by empty pews as he waits for the rest of the team to meet him. It was so crazy how everything had happened at once - how he had just happened by Father Paul at the motel and struck up a conversation about their business here in town, and then minutes later he was on his way to the church where the supposed amulet laid within the heart of Christ.

What Jaebum didn’t expect was that the legend was literal in nearly every sense of the word. From the moment he arrived at St. James Church and stumbled upon the statue of Christ hanging against the wall for everyone to see, he knew things were falling into place. He then discovered the garnet gemstone from the original amulet tucked nicely into Christ’s chest, and with permission from Father Paul excavated it.

Hands in his pockets as he waits patiently for the others, Jaebum traces his fingers over the stone and is entranced by the power that it holds. The dark red stone, no bigger than a ping pong ball, carries the weight of a century old curse and the means to reawaken a force of distinct dark power.

As Jaebum stands in the church, he wonders for a moment what life will be like after this case. If the team will go back to normal - hunting demons and saving innocent lives - or if they’ll go their separate ways again.

He wonders if the Vatican will still want him, and he wonders what his answer would be. He wonders if Jinyoung will still make time to see him, or if their friendship will forever be altered because of the storm of deep feelings that has shifted their sense of belonging.

In any case, Jaebum should be focusing on the situation at hand, not the shortcomings of his personal life.

A low creak draws Jaebum’s attention to the front doors leading inside the chapel, overjoyed as Jinyoung enters the church with an air of confidence in his step. But as he gets closer, Jaebum glances down at Jinyoung’s neck and notices a bruised line almost slashed across in a mixture of red and purple.

Jaebum reaches out to touch it, and Jinyoung doesn’t flinch. “Jinyoung-ah,” he sighs with concern. “What happened?”

Jinyoung’s eyes find his, but something in them isn’t all there. “My necklace,” he responds, rubbing his throat. “When things got crazy back there I got choked by my necklace.”

Glancing down, Jaebum notes that Jinyoung’s necklace is no longer around his neck. It strikes him as odd, considering the pair had made a promise to each other to only take it off if it meant something had gone terribly wrong.

“So w-where is it now?” He stutters, trying to play it cool despite the icy chill that runs through his veins.

“I took it off,” Jinyoung responds nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders. “I didn’t want to risk it happening again.”

For some reason, Jaebum feels vulnerable in the strangest of ways. The explanation makes sense, or  _ would _ make sense, if it were anybody else. But the way Jinyoung casually shrugs off the priceless item like it’s invaluable - like their matching pieces hadn’t been a link that only they could share - rubs him entirely wrong.

Jaebum decides to switch subjects to keep his mind at rest. “But everyone else is okay?”

“Yep,” Jinyoung says cooly, but Jaebum gets the feeling he’s more interested in other things as he glances around the chapel. He turns back to Jaebum, an eagerness laced between his words.“So, where is the amulet?”

“Just like the legend said.” The older points to the statue that towers over them along the far wall, a beacon of freedom for all to see and ask forgiveness from. “In the heart of Christ.”

Jinyoung smiles crookedly, in a way Jaebum’s never seen before. Head tilted as his face falls slightly, Jaebum is engrossed with Jinyoung’s mannerisms as he moves steadily towards the statue. Jinyoung had always had sturdy posture, something Jaebum had imposed on him from an early time in their friendship. Now he walks slightly arched with his shoulders sagging down. His strong arms and hands now hang almost limply by his sides where they sway back and forth, and his eyes are blank as they scour the marble man for any sign of the amulet.

“Jaebum-ah, I don’t see it.”

The name has the hair on the back of Jaebum’s neck standing on edge. Never has Jinyoung referred to him informally for any reason whatsoever, even if they were joking around. His hunches were right.

Something is wrong.

Jaebum swallows, keeping his eyes directly on his friend, unblinking. “It’s been removed,” is all he relays, frightened to say anything more.

Then Jinyoung faces him, crossing his arms with a look of disbelief covering his features. “What do you mean it’s been removed? Where?”

“It’s someplace safe, don’t worry.”

Jinyoung scoffs, inching closer to Jaebum one slow step at a time. His frustration bleeds harder with every word. “Why won’t you tell me where the amulet is?”

Jaebum mirrors Jinyoung’s steps to put some distance between them, startling when his lower back finds the side of a pew and he can no longer move. This is no longer an intimate spat between feuding friends for a piece of the puzzle, this is something deeper than that and Jaebum for the life of him can’t figure out what it is.

“Why didn’t you refer to me as ‘hyung’ Jinyoung-ah?” He demands, slowly losing his ability to think as Jinyoung draws closer with his eyes hooded in a sinister way. The church phone starts ringing in the background, but he can’t be bothered to get to it. “In all the years I’ve known you you’ve not once called me ‘Jaebum-ah’. And you swore you would only take your necklace off in an emergency.”

The phone continues it’s incessant  _ ring, ring, ring,  _ and Jaebum vaguely wonders if the call is for him, some kind of warning to elude him to Jinyoung’s behavior. He makes the mistake of glancing back at it out of instinct, and when he does, all hell breaks loose.

The moment Jaebum turns back Jinyoung is pouncing on him, the whites of his eyes animalistic and bone chilling as he uses a tremendous amount of force to grab Jaebum by the collar and hold him over the pew.

The other hand not holding him down appears above him with a pair of scissors, poised ready to inflict any number of stab wounds to his chest. Jaebum grunts and latches onto Jinyoung’s wrist right as he makes a swinging motion, halting him in the nick of time just before the metal reaches his heart. 

“Where is my amulet?!” Jinyoung’s voice rips through the church walls menacingly as he releases his other hand and brings it to the scissors.

Jaebum’s back is nearly snapping in half from where he’s being bent even further over the side of the pew, both his hands now wrapped around Jinyoung’s and using every last bit of strength he has in him to keep Jinyoung from ripping a hole in his chest. 

Sweat clings to his forehead and his muscles rip through his shirt, veins popping through his neck as he strains with great force. “Jinyoung-ah!” He pleads, face overheating. “Please, this isn’t you!”

He tries to use his feet to his advantage but Jinyoung’s body holds them down with unprecedented strength. As Jaebum continues to struggle, the scissors continue to bear down closer and closer to his chest until he can feel the cold metal pressing into the fabric of his uniform.

But then a commotion startles the pair hard enough for Jinyoung to look towards the front doors, and Jaebum uses this key second to shove the younger off of him and onto the floor. Jackson jogs into the chapel a moment later with Youngjae in tow, but Jinyoung rushes at them with the scissors screaming like deranged madman. 

Jaebum manages to grab Jinyoung’s wrist while Youngjae catches his other arm and holds it to his body. Jackson pulls out a syringe from his belt and uncaps the needle. Jaebum has to look away as Jackson jams it into Jinyoung’s neck and slides the contents inside, but the effects are instantaneous. Jinyoung’s body falls limp into Jaebum’s arms and his eyes close seconds later.

Jaebum pains from both the discomfort in his lower back and the sight of Jinyoung unconscious. He turns to Jackson and Youngjae. “Does anyone want to tell me what’s going on?”

* * *

  


Jaebum sits on his knees crouching over the couch, emptiness overcoming him in waves that keep pulling him further and further out to sea. He feels lonely despite the other three men rubbing circles into his back and whispering words of comfort, isolated to the core, frozen in an icy block of failure, and heartbroken watching the man tranquilized before him - knowing inside he’s being controlled by something else.

Head in his hands whispering a silent prayer, Jaebum painfully regrets leaving despite Jinyoung having begged him to. If he had been here, this wouldn’t have happened. The witch wouldn’t have forced her way in and Jinyoung would have never been possessed. Jaebum wouldn’t have potentially lost him forever.

After the confrontation in the church, Jackson knocked Jinyoung up with about 4 mg of tranquilizers, putting him to sleep instantly. With the witch out of commission for the moment they debated on the next route, but Jaebum knew they had to try and exorcise the demon inside the home to try and save his life. Because of how powerful the witch was, they couldn’t risk performing the exorcism in the church in fear it would completely decemate Jinyoung.

That meant they had to bring him back to the house, to the root of it all. If they could finally destroy the witch once and for all inside the house of horrors and cleanse it right after, there would be no chance of her coming back.

But as Jaebum tries to focus, he can’t stop picturing the deranged look in Jinyoung’s eyes as he’d attacked him. How his sweet, kind, and caring Jinyoung had turned into a wild beast all because of the power of one demonic spirit.

Jaebum vows to bring Jinyoung back or die trying. He’s not going to lose someone else, and it’s sure as hell not going to be the one person he cares most about in the world.

A stirring from the couch catches his attention. He looks up, taking sight of Jinyoung’s eyes groggily starting to open and look up at him. 

“Hyung, what’s going on?” He slurs, and he sounds so innocent that if Jaebum didn’t know any better, who could swear that  _ this _ was Jinyoung.

But it’s not. And he has to remember that.

“Quick,” Jaebum motions to Jackson and BamBam, getting to his feet. “Get him into the chair. We’ve got to start.”

The pair drag a delirious Jinyoung off the couch and set him down into an old chair they pulled from the basement. They use rope to tie him down while he’s still out of it, wrapping his chest to the back of the seat before tying down both arms and legs.

“Jaebum hyung…” Jinyoung’s head rolls to the side as his eyes begin to open fully. He tugs at the rope and frowns. “What’s going on? Why - why are you doing this to me?”

Shutting his eyes, Jaebum forces himself to ignore the man before him. He knows from experience that this is the demon talking, trying to get him sympathetic for it, trying to manipulate him. But it’s not going to work. 

“Youngjae, let’s begin.”

Always his right-hand man, Youngjae meets Jaebum in front of Jinyoung’s body, bible and a bottle of holy water in hand. BamBam and Jackson stand off to the side, BamBam with his camera rolling and Jackson in case they need the extra muscle.

Youngjae glances at each of them and nods, then settles his eyes on Jinyoung. He takes a deep breath, remembering what Jinyoung had told him earlier.  _ I believe in you. _

“In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.” He forms a cross with his fingers across his chest and kisses it. “Exorcizamus te, omnis immunde spiritus, omni satanica potestas,” the deacon reads out in a booming voice, confidence pouring out of his soul. He splashes Jinyoung across the face with the holy water, causing him to wince back into the seat visibly and cry out.

“Jaebum hyung, why are you letting him do this to me?!” Jinyoung wails, eyes squinting shut. Youngjae flicks him again with more water, causing Jinyoung to scream out through the whole house. A lamp in the corner falls over and picture frames fly off the wall. “Please, make him stop.”

Jaebum can’t bear to hear the witch’s pleas, using Jinyoung’s body to try and get to him. She must know how strongly the two are connected by infiltrating Jinyoung’s mind, but Jinyoung needs to fight her with all he has.

“Omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica, in nomini et virtute.” Youngjae’s energy radiates even brighter as he speaks, his confidence in himself rising with each passing moment. He was born to do this.

The deacon douses Jinyoung with another round of holy water, causing him to flail around in his seat like a deranged animal. He sobs, crying out in pain as he jostles from side to side.

“Jaebum hyung please, it hurts,” Jinyoung pleads, sounding too sincere. “Don’t you care about me?”

Forcing himself to take in a breath, Jaebum turns away as he feels Jackson tug on his elbow. “Ignore her, she’s just trying to get to you.”

“I know,” he says back. And he does. It’s just that it sounds so real, this is what Jinyoung _ would  _ sound like if something painful were happening to him. That’s what punches Jaebum in the gut.

Another flick of Youngjae’s wrist has Jinyoung’s body squirming in the chair so violently Jaebum fears he might break it. “Quick, hold him down!”

Jackson follows his lead and the pair latch onto the chair before Jinyoung can tip it over. Even with both of their strengths combined they’re still nothing compared to the power of the witch who has them straining heavily to hold her back.

“Domini nostri Jesu Christi, eradicare et effugare a Dei Ecclesia, ab animabus ad imaginem Dei conditis ac pretioso divini Agni sanguini redemptis!”

Out of Jinyoung’a mouth comes a grotesque scream, distorted at a higher pitch. The scream reverberates through the entire house, causing the foundation to rumble. Youngjae stops for a moment stunned, looking back to Jaebum for reassurance. Jaebum nods, and he himself hopes the worst of this exorcism is over and that Youngjae’s prayers have drained most of her power.

“In the name of Jesus Christ and all the angels,” Youngjae lets the holy water run dry with each word. He points to the man in the chair, but speaks to the demon inside with astonishing authority. “I command you to reveal yourself!”

And reveal herself she does.

Everything happens in a matter of seconds.

First Youngjae is standing before Jinyoung’s body, poised and ready to read another verse. The next moment he’s being flung through the air and slamming into the back wall with a bone crunching  _ whack. _ The deacon crumbles to the floor and doesn’t move further, the bible slipping from his grasp.

“Yah, Youngjae!” Jaebum shouts, but to no avail. The younger doesn’t budge.

From the chair, Jinyoung begins cackling with his whole chest, and that’s when Jaebum knows that Bellerive isn’t hiding anymore. If they want to get her out of here, they’re going to have to finish the exorcism quickly. If he can’t get Youngjae to wake up, there’s no there’s option - Jaebum will have to do it.

BamBam rushes over, rolling Youngjae onto his back. “He’s still alive,” he breathes, slapping his friend’s chest a few times. “But he’s out cold. Hyung, what do we do now?”

Jaebum knows exactly what he has to do. “Bam, hold down the chair.”

The youngest does what he’s told, handing over his camera to Jaebum who places it on top of the TV and out of the way. As the only one left who’s ordained to castrate evil in the name of God, it’s now up to Jaebum to save Jinyoung’s life. He said he’ll do whatever it takes. Even if it means losing his own.

He picks up Youngjae’s bible from the floor, walking towards the man in the chair.

“Hyung, you can’t be serious!” Jackson remarks incredulously when he realizes what’s happening. “You promised Jinyoung you wouldn’t-”

“Well Jinyoung’s not here right now.” He eyes the body of the person in question. Jinyoung flashes him a Cheshire grin and laughs, shaking Jaebum’s core.

BamBam grips onto the chair tighter and hits Jaebum with a cautious look. “But hyung, if you do this you’ll die.”

Jaebum’s already accepted that fact long ago. “Better me than him.”

BamBam and Jackson can only sit back and let their friend do his thing. There’s no changing his mind, and there’s no way to turn back now. Jinyoung will have to forgive him for not keeping his promise.

With a sturdy hand lifting the bible like the numerous other times he’s done before and the other one gripping his cross necklace tightly. Jaebum feels the power of the Lord run through him - let’s his strength guide his words. “Vade, satana, inventor et magister omnis fallaciæ, hostis humanæ salutis…”

Jinyoung throws his head back in what sounds like agonizing pain, roaring so loud that Jaebum nearly drops the bible. Jackson and BamBam strain as they continue to hold down the shaking chair, lest it slip from their grasp and Jinyoung somehow springs free.

Jaebum can already feel the energy it takes to perform an exorcism leave his body is one swift motion, and he has to catch himself from falling. “Humiliare sub potenti manu Dei! Contremisce et effuge, invocato a nobis sancto et terribili nomine! Quem inferi tremunt! Ab insidiis diaboli, libera nos, Domine!” 

_ “Finish that and he’s dead!” _

Jaebum’s mouth closes on the first syllable of the next word, focusing his attention on the almost female voice that pulls from Jinyoung’s lips. “What did you say?”

In the background, Jaebum vaguely recognizes Jackson and BamBam begging for him not to listen to her.

_ “If you finish the prayer, you’ll kill us both.” _

“Don’t listen to her hyung!”

Chest heavy, Jaebum disregards the demon’s threat. He’s not as foolish as the witch thinks him to be if she believes he’ll take the risk of stopping the exorcism now. If he does, it will surely kill Jinyoung and the witch will live to see another day.

He sneers at her, gritting his teeth. “Ut Ecclesiam tuam secura tibi facias libertate servire, te rogamus, audi nos!” The usual ache begins radiating in his chest before traveling to his limbs, only this time it’s stronger tenfold, and his bones weaken easier from the accident. He knows by draining the witch from Jinyoung’s body it will ultimately end in his demise - he can feel where it resonates deep within the scar on his neck.

Reaching into his pocket, Jaebum procures the garnet red gemstone of her amulet and holds it into the light for Bellerive to see. As soon as her eyes latch onto it the witch begins thrashing violently in the chair, shrieking at the top of her lungs. Jackson and BamBam struggle to hold her back, grunting when she manages to start slipping Jinyoung’s arms out of the ropes.

With no second to spare, Jaebum places the stone on the floor and grips the bible firmly in both hands, raising it high. The bible comes down swiftly, shattering the stone into a couple dozen pieces that go flying in all directions across the floor.

Suddenly, everything stops.

Jinyoung’s body sinks limply into the chair, giving Jackson and BamBam the opportunity to detach themselves and catch their breaths. Jaebum tosses the bible aside carelessly and moves slowly towards Youngjae, keeping a hand on the wall for balance, the other clutching his chest.

Jackson hovers over Jinyoung, pressing two fingers to his neck to check his pulse. “He’s still alive!” They turn to Jaebum, who’s slid down the wall to help lift Youngjae up, now conscious. He takes in Jaebum’s state and frowns. “Hyung?”

Jaebum just waves him off. “I’m fine, just make sure Jinyoung’s okay.”

But truth is, he wasn’t fine. The farthest thing from. There had been too much power needed to reclaim Jinyoung’s body back from the witch, and it had been all drawn from Jaebum. Each exorcism he performed took a little piece of him with it. Except this time, he had only one small piece to give, and it was the last.

A deep ache stretches through Jaebum’s bones, like it’s begging him to rest. He knows this, the eternal sleep. He’ll be walking with God soon, but at least he accomplished what he set out to do. Jinyoung will just have to find some way to forgive him.

Before he dies though, he wants to make sure Jinyoung’s okay. “Jinyoung-ah!” He calls weakly, Youngjae by his side where he’s checking his vitals. But at this point, it’s taking all Jaebum has in him not to let the archangels take him.

Still tied to the chair, Jinyoung stirs, his head rolling down into his chest. When his eyes open they land on Jaebum immediately, and Jaebum doesn’t mean to, but lets his own gloss over with tears. He smiles at the younger, not proud that this will be Jinyoung’s last image of him, but thankful he’ll get to say goodbye.

But then Jinyoung grins crookedly. And his laugh, that terrifyingly distorted laugh, has them all frozen to the spot.

The witch hasn’t left.

“No!” Jaebum cries powerlessly, tears streaking down his face. “No, no, no!”

_ “You may have won the battle for my power,”  _ Bellerive snarls through her teeth.  _ “But you’ll never win the war for his soul!” _

She cackles even louder this time, setting the whole house on edge. Jackson wrings his hands through his hair, fretting with wide eyes. “Hyung, what are we going to do?”

Jaebum coughs, blinking from the pain. He has to hold on now, long enough to see Jinyoung make it out enough. “We’ve gotta fight for his soul. He’s gotta fight her from the inside.”

“But how do we do that?”

Jaebum looks across the room at the man he’s spent most of his life with, for better and for worse. If they’re going to free his soul, they’re going to have to get Jinyoung fighting with what he’ll be missing on the outside if he lets her win.

“Jinyoung-ah,” Jaebum says, finding the younger’s eyes already on his body on the floor. He sucks in a breath, praying to God this will work. “You remember that time we settled that haunting in California?” He doesn’t wait for a response. “You wanted to go to Disneyland because you’d never been as a kid. I took you and we spent the whole day riding those dorky kiddie rides and you never stopped smiling, even when we got back to the hotel. You said it was one of the happiest days of your life.”

Bellerive tilts Jinyoung’s head in confusion, and the other three stare entranced at Jaebum’s story.

“Or do you remember that other time we were all together at that dive bar in Cincinnati? You guys had gotten so drunk and started singing karaoke so badly that the other customers were paying you to stop.” Jaebum coughs, the memory fond in his mind. “You had gone around kissing everyone’s cheeks over and over again because you said you loved them so much, they were your family.”

“This is what you’ll be leaving behind, Jinyoung-ah.” Jaebum feels the tiredness pulling him down, but he fights through it. “Jackson, BamBam, Youngjae, and anyone else that will be utterly captivated by your charm,” he chuckles. 

Pausing, Jaebum wipes a few stray tears from his eyes. “And me.”

_ “He had already decided to do that.” _ Bellerive states smugly, swaying Jinyoung’s head from side to side.  _ “He doesn’t care about you, Im Jaebum.” _

The comment is like a crude punch in the gut, but Jaebum knows she’s only saying this to mess with him. “You’re wrong. Ever since the day we met it was like lightning in a bottle. We wanted but we couldn’t have.”

_ “And you still can’t have.” _

Jaebum efficiently tunes her out. He’s only speaking to Jinyoung now as he feels the darkness overcome him. “Jinyoung-ah, I need you to listen to me. I need you to fight, do you hear me? Fight with everything you have left.” Letting his eyes slip closed for a moment, Jaebum prays for a miracle. 

When he opens them, he’s no longer on the floor of the house, but in a bright white space that’s unrecognizable to him. For a moment he thinks he’s dead and this is heaven, but it's missing the holy feeling of everything pure. Instead it’s empty and devoid of feeling. Jaebum peers around the empty space, turning on his heels until something falls into his eye line.

A man.

As Jaebum trudges closer cautiously, it’s with a gasp that he realizes that the man is Park Minyoung, Jinyoung’s father. 

Jinyoung’s dad reaches out, much to Jaebum’s confusion, and places his hands on his shoulders. “Everything will be alright, son.”

“Minyoung hyungnim, what’s going on-”

“You’ll figure it out in time. But right now you need to save my son. It’s neither of your times.”

“But how?” Jaebum asks.

Jinyoung’s father takes on hand and places it over Jaebum’s heart. “With everything you feel for him.”

Jaebum’s eyes suddenly open and he finds himself back in the living room huddled over by three people. There’s no longer a crippling pain in his chest and the exhaustion has ridden itself from his bones. He takes the deepest breath he can manage, shocked when it fills his lungs completely.

The action must startle the others, who break apart with sniffles and confused glances at each other.

“What the fuck, hyung?!” Jackson yells. “We thought you were dead!”

“I think I was,” Jaebum notes as he gets to his feet, still in disbelief that he’s even able to stand up. “But I feel fine now.”

BamBam looks at him with his mouth gaping open. “You’re better than that. You’re cured!”

Squinting, Jaebum’s taken aback by BamBam’s words. Then he reaches up with his fingers to trace the skin on his neck, startled to discover his scar is no longer there. “Oh my…  _ God. _ ”

Perhaps God had answered his prayers and brought them a miracle. After all, Jinyoung’s father said it was neither of their times, so Jaebum was needed here to finish saving Jinyoung’s life. He ignores all the excited emotions rising inside him from the immaculate rebirth of his body and faces the witch, knowing what he has to do.

Jinyoung’s eyes land on him, so Jaebum makes sure to show Bellerive no fear. He’s not backing down, no longer will they bend to her will.

The witch looks apprehensive as Jaebum gets down on both knees and presses his chest to Jinyoung’s legs. He uses both hands to hold Jinyoung’s face despite the protest the witch gives in response. Jackson and BamBam have to go back to holder her arms down from where she loosened the ropes in fear that she could claw free and attack Jaebum again.

The witch pleads for him to let go, but Jaebum disregards her entirely, speaking only to Jinyoung. “Jinyoungie, it’s me, hyung. I just wanted to let you know that I’m waiting for you out here - I’m waiting for you to come back to me.”

He doesn’t care that BamBam, Jackson, or Youngjae are privy to this very intimate moment. He just wants Jinyoung back. 

“Ever since we met I couldn’t keep my eyes off of you.” He admits, ripping the truth out of him like a bandage from an old wound. But suddenly, it doesn’t hurt anymore. “You’re the most beautiful, insanely talented, persistent person I’ve ever met. And I’ll admit I’ve taken it for granted before and I’ve paid the price.”

Bellerive snarls, yanking Jinyoung’s face back and cursing, but Jaebum holds on for dear life. “When you were engaged to Jisoo, it felt like a piece of me had wilted away. I couldn’t stand it, and I’ll be the first to admit I was selfish. I wanted you even though I knew I couldn’t have you. Then you kissed me and it was the only thing that ever felt right.”

Jaebum pours everything he’s ever felt for Jinyoung into the air - the pain, the humiliation, the tragedy, the joy, the frustration, the agonizing defeat, and the devotion he’s held for so many years. It gives Jinyoung something else to fight for. Jaebum knows he doesn’t deserve him, but Jinyoung is all that’s good in this world personified, and he’s not leaving this house without him.

“I still feel your lips when I go to bed at night.” The priest hiccups, eyes brimming with more tears. He fades into the memory of that fateful night that changed his life with a shy smile, remembering how he’d stumbled drunk into Jinyoung’s hotel room and confessed that there were things he felt beyond his control. When they had kissed, it was as if the stars in the sky had brightened just for him that night. “When I begged you not to get married, I didn’t think you’d actually do it.”

Behind him, BamBam whispers to Jackson, “I  _ knew  _ Jaebum hyung had something to do with it!”

Jaebum drowns the others out. He stares deep into the dark irises of Jinyoung’s eyes, searching for any sign of him fighting his way out. “But you did. You didn’t get married because I asked you not to, even if it meant your happiness. And it scared me, Jinyoung-ah. It made me realize that you would do anything for me, which was terrifying. So I began pushing you away.”

“But I’m not scared of us loving each another anymore, my only fear is losing you forever. I’m done pushing you away,” he declares with confidence. To further drive his point home, Jaebum leans his forehead against Jinyoung’s, the younger’s damp hair matted to his face. He closes his eyes, ready to dive in with his entire heart.

“It’s you and me against the world - all the living and all the dead. I need you.”

Bellerive has stopped fighting. Jaebum waits patiently, steadily breathing in and out while he holds Jinyoung close. His heart rate reaches a steady rhythm as he lingers, nose lightly brushing against Jinyoung’s own.

Nobody moves, nobody speaks. The silence is deafening as they await the next thing, but then a soft voice breaks through the cracks and tears down the tension filled air.

“Hyung.” 

It’s one word. One simple word. But Jaebum feels the implications of it run through his soul. The monosyllabic word causes goosebumps to rise on his arm, and he knows it means Jinyoung is there, finding his way through. Jaebum lifts his lashes just enough to peer into Jinyoung’s eyes, pulse skyrocketing when the dark clouds that had once consumed them are nowhere to be seen. 

“Jinyoung-ah?”

Jinyoung smiles, and it’s his precious smile, not the witches crooked grin. But his eyes flutter closed a moment later, fighting to remain open. “I’ve got her, hyung.”

Jaebum has to fight back a wave of tears that spring in the corners of his eyes. It’s really Jinyoung - his Jinyoung - back and he’s fighting all the way to the end. 

Jaebum’s so immersed in Jinyoung’s eyes and the joyous feeling that he’s survived that he doesn’t see Jinyoung’s hands wiggling their way out of the loosened ropes that bind them to the armrests until they’re wrapped around his neck and squeezing with every ounce of power Bellerive has left.

Stunned and caught off guard, Jaebum claws at Jinyoung’s hands as he struggles to breathe. The other three boys jump into action straight away, grabbing his arms and pulling with all their might to make him let go. 

As Jaebum gasps for air, he finds Jinyoung’s eyes the same black pit again and feels utterly stupid for letting himself be led into a trap. Jinyoung had been there, he was sure of it, but she wasn’t going down without a fight. Jaebum isn’t going to let her make him look like a fool.

As the guys manage to remove his hands from Jaebum’s neck he cackles insanely as they continue to hold him down. Coughing and sucking deep breaths into his lungs, Jaebum trifles through everything left in his brain and everything he’s ever learned in order to use it against the witch and save Jinyoung.

Then, he hears a familiar voice in his ear. “ _ With everything you feel for him.” _

Jaebum knows what he has to do.

He takes one look at Jinyoung, rolls up his sleeves, and moves in two quick motions to the chair. The others have no idea what he’s about to do, so he surely catches them off guard when he takes Jinyoung’s face in his hands and falls to his knees.

“Jinyoung-ah, I love you.”

It doesn’t take him but a second later to dive in, pressing his lips to Jinyoung’s. Bellerive fights it, trying to pull back, but Jaebum holds Jinyoung to him tightly, brushing their lips together so hard it hurts. 

And it’s good. Even though it’s cold and lifeless and Jinyoung is possessed it still feels like it did the night they kissed for the first time, like all the stars are aligning to fall on them.

Jaebum breaks the embrace and looks into the cold pit of the witch’s eyes. With determination dripping off his tongue, he finally ends the exorcism once and for all.

“Bellerive, I condemn you back to hell!”

The effect is instantaneous.

Jinyoung begins screaming wildly, but it’s not his voice - it’s Bellerive’s. She’s fighting,  _ straining _ , clawing her way to stay inside. But it’s futile, Jinyoung’s too strong for her now and he shoves her out with every ounce of energy he’s got left.

Jinyoung doubles over and retches, the same black sludge found on Jungkook evacuating his mouth after a few gags. It splashes all over his legs and the floorboards, but Jaebum doesn’t care about that now.

With Jackson and BamBam’s help they untie Jinyoung who falls forward unconscious into Jaebum’s arms. He drags Jinyoung to the floor, brushing the sweaty mop of hair out of his face and lays a hand over his heart to feel the rise and fall of his chest.

Jaebum begins weeping.

* * *

  


The stark white lights of Salem Memorial gleam over the waiting room. Jackson, BamBam, and Youngjae all sit patiently in the plastic seats keeping themselves awake by intermittently reading the fashion and home life magazines on the table and twiddling their fingers together.

There had been no separating Jaebum from Jinyoung once they brought him in, and he stays isolated away from the others in Jinyoung’s room, waiting for him to wake up. He’s not exactly out of the woods yet, but the evil has been expelled from his body, which is all they can ask for at this point.

Jackson stands, stretching his neck back and forth. “I’m gonna go find a cup of coffee, you guys want anything?”

The pair shake their heads and Jackson leaves their company in search of the caffeinated beverage his body desperately craves.

He rounds a nurses station, just barely missing an oxygen tank before it gets wheeled over his foot. When he glances up, he catches sight of a vending machine with a familiar person standing in front of it.

“Mark-ssi?”

Mark turns his head, surprise written on his face as Jackson comes into view. The surprise soon turns to concern. “What are you doing here? Is everything alright?”

“Um, it is.  _ Now _ .” Jackson didn’t mean it as a pick me up, but apparently that’s how it sounds to Mark, to blushes under his gaze. “I just mean, a lot has happened since you guys left.” In Mark’s hand is a single packet of instant coffee mix. Jackson puts a few quarters in the machine and gestures to the table next to it with styrofoam cups and a water heater. “Can we…?”

Mark nods, joining Jackson once he has his packet in hand. “So what happened?”

Jackson dumps his coffee grounds into a cup. “Jungkookie was right, the witch had possessed Jinyoung. How is he by the way?”

“He’s perfectly fine,” Mark smiles, black straw mixing the contents of his drink. “The doctor’s are gonna keep him overnight for observation, but he’s fine. He was just severely dehydrated.”

“I’m so happy to hear that, Mark-ssi.”

“The kids even made him get well soon cards,” the older takes a sip, basking in the gratefulness. “They didn’t want to leave his side all night. But it got so late, I had Yugyeom take them home.” He smiles into his cup before peeking up at Jackson. “So what happened with Jinyoung-ssi?”

Jackson lets the piping hot coffee run down the back of his throat. If the caffeine doesn’t hit him, at least the heat will wake him up. “We discovered where the amulet was, but luckily Jinyoung got there after Jaebum hyung did. We neutralized him before he could get it back and brought him to the house where Youngjae and Jaebum hyung performed an exorcism on him.”

“Oh my god,” Mark gapes. “But he’s okay, right?”

“They got her out, but she caused a lot of damage. He hasn’t woken up yet.”

Mark rests a hand on Jackson’s bicep. “He will, soon. I think Jinyoung-ssi is the strongest person I’ve ever met.”

Jackson knows it’s a tie between Jinyoung and Jaebum for himself, but he can’t help but flex his own arm where Mark is still holding onto him. “Stronger than me?” He jokes, chuckling when Mark startles and his hand flinches away.

It gets the older brunette laughing too, and soon the corridor is echoing with their giggles. When his childish laughter has settled, his smile is still standing as he watches Jackson idly. “If you ever find yourself in Salem again,” he bites his bottom lip nervously. “Don’t be afraid to stop by. I know I - and the  _ kids  _ would love to have you over for dinner or something.”

“Or something?”

“I mean, if we can even go back to our house that is.”

“It’s clean,” Jackson assures warmly. “Well, not completely. Youngjae did a blessing as well. It cast out any negative or demonic spirits that may have resided there.”

“But what about the other ones? Taehyung and the ghost soldiers?”

Jackson nods. “They’ll still be there. But with the witch gone, I don’t think they’ll be bothering you any longer.”

“Well then, call me the next time you’re in town.”

Now it’s Jackson’s turn to blush. “It’s a date.”

* * *

  


Jaebum sits alone by Jinyoung’s bedside, head bent over the sheets as he holds Jinyoung’s hand between his own. He had successfully exorcised the demon and banished her to hell, but Jinyoung’s body had paid the price for it. When they brought him in he was unconscious, dehydrated, hypoglycemic, and a myriad of other small health concerns that normally comes from losing control of one’s body for an extended period of time.

The doctors have him hooked to an I.V. that’s been supplying him nutrients and other sugars his body needs to get his glucose levels up. Jinyoung can breathe fine on his own, and despite the dehydration and hypoglycemia, his vital signs are normal. 

The worst part now is waiting for him to wake up.

Jaebum’s been bent over this bed for hours - he doesn’t even recognize what time it is, probably early a.m - praying every second he isn’t doing anything else unimportant, like breathing. He prays to God to help him understand what happened tonight, because surely he should be dead, not cured of his scars and able to walk around. He prays in the name of Jinyoung’s father, searching for answers as to how his voice would come to him and guide him to save Jinyoung’s life. Most of all, he whispers his own prayer for the man before him, knowing he’s already received so much from the Lord but continuing to beg in greed for more.

“Dear Heavenly Father, please hear my prayers,” he holds Jinyoung’s hand even tighter, commanding his very personal words to take effect. “Please watch over Jinyoung and give him strength while he’s at his most vulnerable right now. I don’t - I never ask you for anything, Lord. But I’m asking you for this.” Jaebum’s emotions are heightened the longer he speaks, and he has to clear his throat to keep it from cracking. “Please grant this man a full recovery. Allow him to wake up soon, Father. He deserves more than this.”

Jaebum pauses to think of more to say, sniffling. Out of nowhere he feels something squeeze his hand. His head shoots up, eyes landing on Jinyoung’s bleary own staring back at him with a small grin. 

“Hyung,” Jinyoung says groggily. “Are you crying over little ole me?”

And Jaebum can’t help it, he does. Again.

His eyes are barely open and his voice is so small that Jaebum knows he won’t be awake for long. But he doesn’t care, scooting further up the bed to take Jinyoung’s face in his hands and smile.

“I’m so sorry, Jinyoungie.” Jaebum sobs, his tears landing on Jinyoung’s cheeks. He wipes them off with his thumbs. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.”

“S’not your fault,” Jinyoung mumbles, eyes fighting to remain open. “I told you t’go. M’sorry.”

Jaebum wants to badly to lean down and kiss his light pink lips again. “It’s okay, you’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

Jinyoung smiles as he closes his eyes, reaching up to tug at Jaebum’s sleeve. “You’ll have to tell me how Youngae’s first exorcism went when I wake up.”

Jaebum tucks Jinyoung’s arm back into the sheets and finds himself overcome with confusion. “You mean - you mean you don’t remember?”

With just a shake of his head and a tired hum, Jinyoung snuggles into his bed and drifts away within seconds. Jaebum watches the way his chest rises and falls, this time with the knowledge that Jinyoung is going to be okay. He settles into his chair, trying not to let the disappointment eat it’s way through his heart.

Jaebum had poured his soul out to Jinyoung during the exorcism and saved his life. How was he to ever to that a second time? He doesn’t know.

The priest closes his eyes, lets sleep consume him instead of thinking about it.

* * *

  


_ One month later. _

The midday church bell tolls from the tower nestled across from the steeple, echoing throughout the halls of the grand old building. Rich colors of red, blue, and yellow stream through the stained glass of the windows, the original handcrafted artwork of the virgin Mary and the archangels in the sky from the eighteenth century highlighting the shadowy pews that line the chapel.

The last mass service of the day had let out roughly ten minutes ago, and Jaebum takes this quiet time to go around and double check the pews for any straggling bibles that may have been left behind and throw away any trash that the church goers may have forgotten to pick up.

It had only been one month since the Bellerive case and still, despite pouring himself back into the church, Jaebum couldn’t stop dwelling on it. 

It had been the strangest case he’s ever been on. By all intents and purposes, he should be dead. But he’s not - cured even, from the disease even that took a piece from him every time he worked a case - and there’s no explanation as to why. 

But there’s a single thought that keeps resurfacing in his mind, and the more Jaebum thinks about it, the more chills run down his spine.

Was it God?

Had God laid his mighty hand upon Jaebum in his time of need and cured him of his ailments, saving his life so he could in return save Jinyoung’s? The thought has kept Jaebum up more nights than he can remember.

Then there’s Jinyoung. Jinyoung, who almost died at the hands of a vengeful spirit but made it out alive thanks to Jaebum’s tender love. Jinyoung, who couldn’t even remember a single detail of the exorcism when he woke up, commending Youngjae on a job well done.

And Jaebum, the spineless coward that he is, never told him any different, and made the rest of the team relay the same thing. He felt a deep ache inside at the realization that Jinyoung would never knows those words he spoke from his soul, and he knew it was for the best, not wanting to add any extra stress to his delicate state.

Plus, Jaebum had broken two promises to Jinyoung. Jaebum had promised he would not performing anything while they were on the case, and he swore to Jinyoung that he would leave the house and never return. He feared Jinyoung would never trust him again if he were to ever find out. It was selfish and cowardly, he knew. He just needed some time.

Sunshine brightens the dim chapel as one of the double doors is pushed open. When Jaebum stands straight, he finds Jinyoung strutting down the middle of the aisle with his hands by his side. The sun outlines his body giving him a halo of golden color, making it hard for Jaebum to draw his eyes away.

“Jinyoung-ah,” he smiles, pretending that he wasn’t just thinking about him. “This is a pleasant surprise.” Jinyoung’s face is distinctly lacking in pleasantries as he gets closer, and Jaebum’s turns down seriously in response. “What’s wrong?”

Jinyoung’s arms cross over his chest as he peers up at Jaebum dangerously. “You told me that Youngjae performed the exorcism, but that was only half true.” He extends his hand out, a small rectangular cassette pinched between his fingers. “I found this tape when I borrowed BamBam’s camcorder. You lied to me.”

Jaebum feels like he’s been knocked in the chest, the air suddenly becoming thin. He was talking about the exorcism, Jaebum’s worst nightmare. He plucks the tape from Jinyoung’s fingers, trying to piece together how exactly it could have made it onto a tape. For all he knew, there were no cameras during that time, because he had taken it from BamBam and-

And then it hits. In the thick of things Jaebum recalls snatching BamBam’s camera away from him in order for the youngest to hold down Jinyoung’s chair. He had set it aside, on the TV - he smacks himself. It was facing them the entire time.

Squeezing his eyes shut tight and gritting his teeth, Jaebum now has a lot to explain. Jinyoung’s seen everything - he knows Jaebum’s in love with him.

When he opens his eyes, Jinyoung’s still glaring at him darkly. “I can explain-”

“Was it all true?” Jinyoung interrupts with annoyance, scoffing. “Or were you just telling me what I wanted to hear?”

“I would never do that, Jinyoung. I meant every word I said.”

And that is nothing but the truth. He would never do anything to hurt Jinyoung on purpose, he would never lie about his feelings like that. Jinyoung looks like he might believe him, but is hesitant. Jaebum doesn’t know how to convey his words properly, so he decides to take a seat in one of the pews, gesturing for Jinyoung to follow. Reluctantly, he does, but puts two feet of distance between them.

“Were you ever going to tell me?” The younger looks back, eyes softening with his voice. He doesn’t look angry anymore, just filled with a mixture of exhaustion and hurt.

Jaebum feels worse than he already did. “I was. I just needed to find the right time.”

“How about right after I’d woken up instead of lying to me?” Jinyoung’s voice pinches out.

“I’m sorry, Jinyoung-ah.” Now Jaebum can’t face him. He looks away at his feet, ashamed. Add this to the growing list of times he’s sent Jinyoung on a cruise of disappointment. “You’d forgotten and I know it wasn’t your fault, but it still hurt. I wanted to tell you but you’d already been through so much, I didn’t want to put you through something else until I knew you’d be ready for it.”

“That’s not your call to make, hyung.” Jinyoung sighs softly, like he’s beginning to understand where Jaebum is coming from. But he’s far from forgiven him. “In the tape you said you were done pushing me away, but here you are, going against your own words.”

He’s right. Jaebum is doing the exact opposite of what he confessed to Jinyoung that fateful night when everything was at stake. Ever since then Jaebum had forced a false narrative on Jinyoung to protect him from Jaebum’s own delusions. Would Jinyoung have been better off knowing the truth? Probably. But would Jaebum have been better off if Jinyoung had known from the start?

“I’m not - I’m not trying to push you away. I just have a lot to figure out right now, with the church and everything. I was-” he gulps, throat suddenly dry. “I was selected for the Vatican.”

The letter, wrapped in a golden seal and hand delivered to him - followed by a personal call from the archbishop - had arrived last Saturday confirming his selection. Pope John Paul II had gotten wind of his death-defying cleansing of a most powerful demonic spirit and hand-wrote him the confirmation letter himself. 

Jaebum had never imagined he would actually get selected, not with everything he’s done and the failures he’s managed to bypass in the meantime; it still feels like a fever dream. It’s been his biggest dream since his own passage into the church seven years ago, one his own father had wished for but could never attain.

Jinyoung clears his throat, his words coming out barely above a whisper like he’s trying hard not to cry. “Congratulations. I’m - I’m so happy for you, hyung.”

“I was doing everything I could not to lose you that night. Everything I said was true, but this is my life, Jinyoung-ah. My duty to the church and this opportunity-” He stops, finally turning back to gage Jinyoung’s face. His eyes are gentle, matching the wiggle of his lips that he holds back. “I don’t know how to reconcile that with my feelings for you.”

The younger lets a long breath escape his chest. Jaebum watches where his hands are trembling slightly. “I wished you talked to me sooner, hyung. Instead of shutting me out we could have worked this out together.”

“I don’t know how to say I’m sorry.”

Jinyoung shakes his head. “I don’t know how I can get you to trust me.”

“I do I just,” Jaebum finds Jinyoung’s eyes searching his own for more of an answer. He trusts the man before him with his entire life, and he needs him to know that. But there’s more to it, and Jaebum needs him to understand. “I need some time to figure things out.”

Timidly, like he’s afraid a single brush of their skin will erupt in hellfire, Jinyoung slides his palm over the top of Jaebum’s hand where it rests on his knee. The feeling it sends down Jaebum’s spine isn’t hellfire, but it’s something else electric that only intensifies when Jinyoung squeezes.

“You’ll know where to find me.” He says, standing from the pew. “But I’m not waiting forever.”

In a few short strides he’s down the aisle and out of the church, leaving Jaebum alone to wallow in his thoughts again. Only this time, Jinyoung knows about everything.

Jaebum thinks he might cry out of frustration, rubbing his eyes so hard with his palms he sees stars behind his lids. They bleed into his regular vision as he opens his eyes, so much so that he nearly misses when the doors open again.

He panics, thinking it might be Jinyoung once more. But the smaller body in a uniform almost exactly as his own tells him it’s not.

“Hey hyung.” Youngjae waves. The man, wearing his own regalia of priesthood after being ordained after returning to the church after the Bellerive case was closed, takes in Jaebum’s expression with concern. “You okay?”

Jaebum pinches the bridge of his nose. “Um, not really. Jinyoung found out about the exorcism.”

Youngjae’s mouth forms an ‘o’ shape. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Jaebum hasn’t talked about it to anyone - except Jinyoung. It’s been eating away at him for weeks, gnawing it’s way to the surface. He watches Youngjae gesture to the confessional and sighs, deciding to get it all off his chest.

Entering the confession booth and dropping to his knees, he peers through the tiny holes in the wire mesh that separates the two booths, watching as Youngjae shuffles inside and takes his own seat. Jaebum takes a deep breath, letting his nerves run through him as he lets it out. When he’s ready, he clasps his hands together and bows his head.

“Forgive me Father, for I have sinned,” he starts. “It has been a week since my last confession.”

“What have you come to confess today, Father Im?” Youngjae’s voice draws out through the divider.

“I must confess that I’ve been - straying from the church,” Jaebum admits with a forlorn sigh. “Things here haven’t been the same in a while, and I’m scared of what that means. Am I falling from God’s grace? Am I straying onto a path I cannot come back from?”

It had been happening since before the Bellerive case, roughly a week or two after the accident that had left Jinyoung’s father nearly dead. His drive - what he had once craved between the stained glass walls of the place of worship - had began fading. Whether Jaebum has outgrown his passion or the celestial voices are no longer calling his name, there’s a divide in his heart and it all seems to center around a single brunette man.

“It’s normal for people to feel distant from God at times,” Youngjae responds. “Is it because of Jinyoung hyung?”

“Is it wrong that I feel no shame?”

“No, I don’t believe so, if it’s what you want.”

“But the church - it’s my whole life. It’s everything I’ve ever worked for. I’ve been honored by the Vatican, and yet I can’t find it in me to feel joy.” Eyes closed, Jaebum hangs his head. “How can it all just be for nothing?”

“It’s not for nothing, people evolve over time. We’re only human.”

“But God - I’m scared he’s going to be disappointed in me.”

“You’ve found the one person you’d do anything for in this world, Jaebum hyung,” Youngjae explains, voice held high. He’s become a strong priest that Jaebum has grown so proud of. “I hardly think God would be disappointed you’ve chosen to be with him.” Across the booth, Youngjae hums sweetly. “For God so loved the world that he gave his only son, so that whoever believes in him shall not perish, but have everlasting life.”

Jaebum smiles. “John 3:16.”

“Hyung, as long as you continue to put your faith in the Lord, he will never, ever forsake you.”

Maybe Youngjae was right - maybe this was God’s plan for him all along. Maybe he was meant to serve his time for the Lord and then as his penance, he would get to live the rest of his life as he wanted, with Jinyoung.

Or maybe Youngjae was wrong, and Jaebum would forever be a martyr in the eyes of the Lord.

* * *

  


At home that night, Jaebum washes away the smell of anointing oil and heats himself a bowl of ramen. Tucked into a large t-shirt and grey sweatpants, he lounges in his brown recliner and flips the television on to the local news. He reaches into the pocket on the side of the chair, pulling out his reading glasses and the crossword puzzle he’d been working on from earlier.

A six letter word for liquor. He thinks for a moment, sighing when the answer hits him.  _ Spirits. _ The weather announcer in the background shows the forecast for the week, pointing out a ninety percent chance of rain starting tonight. Jaebum looks out his window and can already see the pitter-patter of raindrops smacking against the glass.

A rapping at his door pulls Jaebum’s attention from the weather outside. He stands, dropping his crossword in his recliner and making his way to the door. When he opens it, he feels all the blood rush from his face as his eyes fall on the familiar man standing before him.

“Minyoung hyungnim.” He stares open-mouthed, stock still in disbelief. “It can’t be - is that really you?”

Words are unable to form in his dry throat as he stares up at Jinyoung’s father, Park Minyoung, who is very much still alive. With his same old sturdy broad shoulders that made him unstoppable, his height that towered over anybody he met, and his thick eyebrows that shot to kill, Park Minyoung looked as he always used to. There were no signs he’d ever been in a coma fighting for his life. Jaebum is beyond ecstatic, but he also has so many questions.

“It’s good to see you too, Jaebum-ah.” The older mans vibrato is just as strong as Jaebum remembers it to be; it vibrates through his chest as the older man brings him in for an overdue hug.

Jaebum’s still in shock as he pulls back. “I don’t believe it. How did you - how are you awake? Does Jinyoung know?”

“No, I haven’t been to see my son yet. I wanted to thank you for what you did for him.”

“But how did you know?” 

“Because I was there, remember?” Park Minyoung smiles coyly, and it hits Jaebum like a freight train. Jinyoung’s father was there, when Jaebum was on the brink of death, he had told him how to bring Jinyoung back. Jaebum had poured over what it meant for weeks. “God sent me to help bring my son back. And now he’s sent me to help you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You still blame yourself for what happened to me.” Minyoung says pointedly, warm brown eyes, the same shade as Jinyoung’s own staring into Jaebum’s. “And I’m here to say you did nothing wrong.”

But Jaebum can’t accept that. He knows he could have done more, he could have spoken the exorcism quicker, gotten Jinyoung out of the house somehow, or just not have been so careless. 

“But if I had just gone faster, I could have cleaned the poltergeist out of the house and you wouldn’t have had to strike a deal to save Jinyoung’s life-”

“That would have happened regardless if you had exorcised the house or not.” Minyoung raises his hand to silence Jaebum’s ramblings. “That demon was no regular demon, son. It was Beezlebub.” Known as one of the seven princes of hell, Beezlebub is a conniving and manipulative demon that the Bible proclaims works for the devil himself. “If you would have cleansed that house, he would have survived anyway because of how powerful he was. Only giving him a soul would make him leave, and I was going to do anything I could to save my son. Even if it meant giving my own life.”

Jaebum can’t believe his own ears. Was that really what had happened? It’s true that Beezlebub has been prophesied as one of the most powerful demons, third in command to the devil. In some scripture translations, he’s revered as satan himself. If he had taken Jinyoung and only offered him back with the promise of a soul, then it was easy for Jaebum to put himself in Park Minyoung’s shoes.

“You know where I’m coming from, don’t you?”

How Jaebum does. He’d be a hypocrite for saying no after he tried to give his very own to save Jinyoung in almost the same manner just weeks ago. He knows now what it’s like in that moment, when someone you care for so deeply is being taken away from you. If you have a chance to do something about it you take it.

“I do.”

“Then you should know that you are not to blame, Jaebum-ah. You never were, and I hope you can see that God wants you to be happy.” Jinyoung’s father steps backwards towards the front door, smiling with pride in his eyes. “You deserve to be happy.”

Jaebum reaches out. “Wait, hyungnim where are you going?”

Park Minyoung has already gotten the door open, lingering halfway into the hallway with his hand resting on the knob. “To my son. It was good seeing you, Jaebum-ah.”

That’s the last thing Jinyoung’s father says to him before shutting the door behind him. Jaebum, still reeling from the moment, gazes at the door in amazement and thinks back to the man’s words.  _ God wants you to be happy. _

Perhaps this is the push he needed. 

God wants him to be happy, he knows that. He wants himself to be happy as well. But Jaebum was so wrapped up in his own self-guilt and his confusion about his place in the world that he kept walking past the big picture standing right in front of him: He doesn’t need to please anybody but himself. 

He had grown up with this idea that he needed to follow strict rules in order to be a good member of the church and be a faithful christian; God wouldn’t let you into Heaven if you were a sinner. But there’s room for leniency - nobody’s perfect. People sin all night and day, but because God loves them, they are forgiven.

Jaebum’s found himself straying from what the rules a priest must follow because the rules are just a guideline set for people to try and please the Lord. But the thing is, he doesn’t need to please the Lord. God loves him for who he is, and as everyone keeps reiterating to him, wants him to be happy.

Youngjae was right. It’s normal to drift as time goes on; he’s only human. Jaebum knows now that it’s okay to change - priesthood might not be his calling card anymore.

Which, is weird thinking about but also feels like a weight has been lifted off his chest. 

He has to tell somebody, then remembers where Minyoung is going and that he probably hasn’t caught the elevator yet. Without time to spare, Jaebum slips into his brown overcoat and slippers and grabs his keys before running out into the hall. 

“Wait, hyungnim!” He calls as the elevator doors draw closed the last inch. To his side is a staircase that leads the three flights to the bottom, so Jaebum rushes down two steps at a time in order to meet Jinyoung’s dad at the ground floor.

With fast legs and lungs out of oxygen, Jaebum manages to make it to the doors before they open. When the elevator dings, the golden metal doors slide to either end and reveal one of the women that lives on Jaebum’s floor, no Park Minyoung in sight. Perhaps he missed him.

Jaebum rushes outside, having forgotten about the rain. He catches a few drops to the eye while the rest severely dampen his clothes before he can even get his car unlocked. He gets in and plunges on the gas to get himself to Jinyoung’s house as quickly as possible.

* * *

  


The rain is relentless; it beats down on Jaebum’s car hard enough to nearly blind him. The wipers do no good to brush the fallen water from the glass, and they do nothing to help Jaebum stay dry as he exits the vehicle when he pulls into Jinyoung’s driveway.

Nearly soaked in his pajamas, Jaebum waddles to the front porch in his house slippers and rings the bell. It’s late, but the lights are still on. And if Minyoung is here, then Jinyoung is sure to be awake. But as he waits for Jinyoung to answer the door, Jaebum notices there’s no other car parked on either side of the street.

Odd.

Then Jinyoung opens the door, and it becomes even stranger. He smiles when he sees Jaebum standing on his front porch, but under the porch light Jaebum can tell something is wrong. Jinyoung’s cheeks are red and shining with a fine layer of gloss. His eyes are swollen and puffy, pink staining the whites of his corneas. He’d just been crying.

Jaebum forgets why he’s here and springs into action. “Jinyoung-ah, what’s wrong?” He fills with worry as he reaches for the man before him.

Instead of answering, Jinyoung turns and leaves the door wide for Jaebum to enter. “Come in, let me get you a towel.”

“Jinyoung, what’s going on?” Jaebum enters the clean house and drips along the beige carpet, staring in perplexion as Jinyoung up and leaves him to go fetch a towel.

When he returns and hands Jaebum the cloth to dry himself with, Jinyoung gestures towards the white couch. “Why don’t we sit first?”

Jaebum’s begins to tremble as he removes his overcoat and plants his damp bottom on the couch, not just because he’s cold and wet. Something is bothering Jinyoung, as is evident by the bottle of scotch sitting open on the coffee table and the crystal glass next to it filled slightly.

His eyes slide to the man next to him, who tips the scotch bottle over and lets the brown spirits fill his glass a quarter of the way. He takes a sip, alcohol lingering on his lips that he swipes away with his tongue. Jaebum is mesmerized by it. 

“My father is at peace,” Jinyoung winces as the drink hits the back of his throat.

“What are you talking about?”

Jinyoung sighs, taking another swig of his drink before setting the glass down. “I got a call from the hospital about twenty minutes ago. He’s gone.” 

Blinking, Jaebum doesn’t think he’s processed that correctly. Gone as in, left the hospital? Or gone as in,  _ gone _ ? Because, it was only twenty minutes ago that Jaebum had seen him in the flesh, standing in his apartment. Minyoung had spoken to him, hugged him even, and told him things no dead person could.

Unless, he had been visited by Minyoung’s spirit. Jaebum had been visited by him once, during the exorcism. Minyoung told him he was sent by God himself. If he was dead, it would have made sense why he had just appeared at Jaebum’s apartment with no warning. If he had woken up, the hospital would have called Jinyoung straight away, and he wouldn’t have been released so early. If it was his spirit, it made sense how he just disappeared into thin air after leaving Jaebum’s apartment and why he isn’t at Jinyoung’s house now.

But it had all felt so real. Jaebum can still feel the essence of Minyoung’s arms around him. The newfound knowledge has Jaebum sinking back into the couch and staring open mouthed at his hands. “I’m so sorry, Jinyoung.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” the younger braves a smile, shrugging his shoulders. Jaebum feels the motion where they’re connected. “He made sure I was okay.”

With the turn of his head, Jaebum catches Jinyoung’s eyes on him. Had his father actually come to see his son, like he told Jaebum he was going to? He reaches over and tugs Jinyoung’s hand in his, intertwining their fingers. It’s warm and comfortable, and hopefully puts Jinyoung at ease.

“It’s not your fault.” Jinyoung squeezes back, determination set in his eyes.

“I know. I know it’s not.” Jaebum squeezes back. And for the first time, he believes the words to be true. “He made sure I was okay too.”

Jinyoung’s eyes well with another round of tears at the implication of his words. He knows his father’s been to see Jaebum as well. Before he realizes it, the older feels the back of his eyes prickle with heat and he blinks hard in order not to tear up.

In a spur of the moment idea he snatches Jinyoung’s glass off the coffee table and downs the scotch in hopes it will take his edge off. It’s bitter as hell and burns going down, but it’s the first drop of non-wine alcoholic beverage Jaebum’s had since he was a teenager, and the sense of freedom he feels when his belly lights up is enough to put him through all the years he’s spent abiding by the church’s rules.

Jinyoung’s eyes go wide, reaching for the glass. “Yah hyung, what are you doing? You’re not allowed to have that!”

Smiling when the younger pulls it from his grasp, Jaebum leans closer to Jinyoung and let’s their legs brush. He can already feel the static electricity running to his core. “Sure I can,” he shrugs nonchalantly. “I’m no longer a priest.”

“You’re wha-?”

“And I’m saying no to the Vatican.”

Jinyoung jumps to his feet, face turned into a frown. “But that was your dream. You’ve wanted this since we were in our early twenties, hyung. This is what God placed you on this earth for.” He stammers out exasperatedly. “And now you’re going to throw it all away? For what? For me? I’m sorry hyung, I made it seem like you needed to choose between me and your profession. I was selfish and angry when I spoke to you. But I don’t want you to give up your dream for me.”

When Jinyoung looks at him, really looks at him, Jaebum can see that he’s scared. Scared that Jaebum will be giving up something merely because Jinyoung asked him to, kind of how Jinyoung did when Jaebum begged him not to get married. But this time is different. Jinyoung never asked him to choose, he never gave Jaebum an ultimatum. Jaebum had been estranged from the church for months and had been steadily losing love for it like he once had. Jinyoung needs to know that while everything Jaebum does in the end is for him, he’s not the one who changed Jaebum’s mind.

Jaebum stands, the towel dropping to the couch as he inches closer, eyes tender. “I’m not happy there anymore, Jinyoung-ah. I haven’t been in a while,” he explains, watching as Jinyoung’s eyes widen sharply. “Being selected for the Vatican was an honor, but the idea of working there isn’t as joyous as it used to be.”

One step closer. Jinyoung gulps, and Jaebum follows the motion with his eyes. “I want to be able to say that I’m happy in life. And I know more than anything, God wants that for me too.” Another step closer and Jaebum finds their feet touching. Their faces are mere inches apart - he can feel Jinyoung’s chest when it expands with each breath. “I’m not sure of a lot right now, like what I’ll do once I resign or where I’ll live once they kick me out of my free housing. But I know that you make me the happiest person in the world, Jinyoung-ah. And whatever I end up doing, I want to share it with you.”

Time stops and the room falls into silence as the pair stare deeply into each other’s eyes, unbreaking. Jinyoung’s breath hitches loud enough to fill the space, and then a stray tear escapes down his cheek.

Reaching up tentatively with his hand, Jaebum fits Jinyoung’s cheek in his palm and clears it away with his thumb, rubbing it into the supple patch of his skin. Jinyoung nuzzles into it, and Jaebum takes this opportunity to snake his other arm around the younger’s waist, tugging him so close their noses brush.

Jinyoung runs his hands up Jaebum’s chest, finding themselves comfortably wrapped around his neck. When he speaks gently, Jaebum’s heart is erupting into fireworks in his chest.

“I love you too, hyung.”

Neither can stand it anymore. At the same time they move forward, sealing their lips together in a harmonic kiss that has Jaebum squeezing Jinyoung’s waist and Jinyoung sighing in pleasure. Only this time, Jaebum isn’t drunk, begging Jinyoung not to fulfill a promise, and Jinyoung isn’t infested by evil, Jaebum being the only person who can help him.

Jinyoung’s lips are plush and slide expertly where he leads Jaebum’s own amatuer pliant ones, falling to pieces under every move of his mouth. They kiss softly and sweetly for the first time, nothing to stop them.

They find each other’s lips again and again until they’re breathless. 

They kiss like they’ve been in love since they were eighteen.


End file.
